


From the Old Breed

by BouncyPickle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV), The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Attraction, Bill is a Droid, Eugene Pines Like He Invented It, Eugene is the Mandalorian, Explicit Language, Falling In Love, Fights, Force Sensitivity, Force User Snafu, Idiots in Love, It Doesn't Slow Him Down Any, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Morality, Physical Disability, Pining, Rating May Change, Religion, Religious Conflict, Self-Discovery, Sexual Confusion, Sid is Not a Bad Guy, Snafu Has One Arm, Snafu is the Asset, Space Battles, Tags May Change, The Empire Sucks, The Force, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BouncyPickle/pseuds/BouncyPickle
Summary: Eugene is a Mandalorian; he hunts bounties, he supports the Tribe, he survives. This is the way.Then he's hired to track down an asset for an ex-Imperial officer and it changes everything. The asset is like no one Eugene has ever met before. Eugene must come to terms with his place in the way of the Mandalore and, more importantly, he must come to terms with his feelings and what it means to be himself.
Relationships: Andrew A. "Ack-Ack" Haldane/Edward "Hillbilly" Jones (Implied), Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge, R. V. Burgin/Florence Risely (Background)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 46





	1. The Mandalorian

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I mean no disrespect to any real people or places whose names are used in this story. This is all based entirely on the fictional characters from the show The Pacific. This is all done just for fun! Thanks and May the Fourth be with you!
> 
>   
> 

Eugene was the youngest Mandalorian to leave their sanctum in years. He knew it fostered resentment among veterans but also knew he’d earned the opportunity. The Armorer had approved him herself. True he was the Armorer's foundling but that had never afforded him any comforts over any of the other children.

Sometimes, Eugene remembered glimpses of his birth parents before he was saved by the Tribe. His father had a kind face, Eugene thought, and maybe he practiced medicine. He recalled his mother’s voice but not what she looked like. Occasionally he would hear her scream out his name at night in the throes of a nightmare. The scream always curdled at the end, bloodied as the Imperial droid shot her down in front of his eyes. Even though Eugene knew he would never forget them completely, his mother and father didn’t haunt him like they used to. Eugene had found purpose and sanctuary as a Mandalorian. 

Once he’d been approved to leave the sanctum, Eugene had spent the first couple of years in the expanse of the galaxy trying to fight what he considered the _good fight_. Eventually he found his talents were best put to use hunting bounties and chasing criminals. It wasn't as rewarding morally as he had been expecting but his earnings went to the Tribe, most importantly to the next generation of foundlings, and that alone made the work worth it. 

Eugene reminded himself of that as he sat across from an ex-Imperial officer, offering him stolen Beskar, smelted into an unnatural ingot stamped with the Empire's sinister fingerprint. The asset was on Peleliu-7. They were a year older than Eugene himself. Worth a whole camtono of Beskar. That was all the information the client offered and all he needed to know. Eugene took the job and tracking fob without hesitation. 

Later, the Armorer reiterated to Eugene that this work was benefiting the Tribe, that the amount of Beskar brought in from this job would sponsor many foundlings. So Eugene put the suspicious ex-Imperial, his doctor insisting the bounty be brought in alive, and his groupie stormtroopers out of his mind. There was no more Empire, after all, and that made this client no different from any other. She fixed him with a new Beskar pauldron, restored to the way it was meant to be, but still without a signet.

“This is the way.”

Eugene knew her words were the only truth in the entire galaxy he could never deny. 

Landing on the desolate desert planet of Peleliu-7, Eugene stepped off the ramp of his K-35 class ship with his rifle at the ready. He needed a place to start so he needed to scope out what exactly the planet had to offer. Scanning his surroundings with his helmet, Eugene observed the dry, hot air and sandy wastes of the desert planet and also took note of the local wildlife. 

Large reptiles with massive heads, mouths full of sharp teeth, and strong legs ran wild. Eugene had never seen something quite like them and he found them fascinating. Until Eugene turned too late to see one charge him. He released a blast of flame from his wrist but not before the creature's massive maw clamped down on his arm. Eugene had just cried out in shocked pain when blaster fire ended the creature's life with a well-placed shot to the side of its head.

Eugene dragged himself away from the corpse enough to raise his amban rifle once again. The man seated atop another of the lizard monsters only looked on, unimpressed. He held his own blaster rifle across his lap, aimed safely down and away from Eugene.

"Mind the blurrgs," he drawled lazily but his eyes were sharp, "Now I'm gonna need you to lower that gun,"

"I'm a Mandalorian," Eugene countered, "Weapons are part of my religion."

The man only raised an unimpressed brow so with a sigh, Eugene lowered his rifle. He did owe the man for saving his arm, after all. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and raised his hands out to the side as if to show he had no intention of using it any longer. The stranger accepted the gesture with a nod toward Eugene's arm.

"How bad is it?" he didn't wait for Eugene to answer, "Come on. We'll patch ya up."

Eugene didn't miss the fact the man's words implied he wasn't alone on this planet. Still, Eugene needed aid and information. This man and his people were far more familiar with Peleliu-7 than him. A vital opportunity to gather intel seemed a waste to pass up. So Eugene accepted the stranger's offer and followed him and his tame reptilian to a moisture farm not far from where Eugene had landed the K-35

"Ack-Ack!" the stranger called out, "We got company."

"Very funny," another man, and Eugene wondered if _Ack-Ack_ was a greeting or perhaps his name, exited the main shelter and stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Eugene, "Well, kriff me. You weren't kidding."

"Unfortunately not," his savior said sourly and he dismounted his blurrg, "The Mandalorian here almost got his arm bitten off."

The other man smiled as he approached Eugene. "An easy mistake. Blurrgs aren't the most predictable creatures," he extended a hand, "I'm Ack-Ack and this is Eddie. Don't mind him, he's wary of newcomers. We've been getting plenty of unsavory types out here lately, and I'm not talking about the wildlife."

Eugene accepted the man's handshake and nodded in greeting, "Yeah, I think I may know a thing or two about that."

"I was hoping you might." 

Ack-Ack motioned for Eugene to follow and he led them inside. It was more comfortable than Eugene was expecting. Stacks of junk scrap and tools littered the domicile but amidst cozy, lived-in furniture, drapery, and clothes. Eugene's eyes panned the enclosure, as a safety precaution, and he landed on a tucked away corner, the bedroom. There was only one bed. Quickly, he looked away, suddenly feeling as though his wandering eyes were intrusive and rude. Ack-Ack retrieved a medkit from a counter that appeared to function as a kitchen and when he seated himself at a table, Eugene followed his lead.

They sat together while Ack-Ack tended to Eugene's wound. The man had a surprisingly delicate touch for such calloused, work-worn fingers. Ack-Ack explained how a group of sordid individuals had landed in their peaceful valley and violence had followed. Eugene could tell the man was asking unspoken questions with the clever narrowing of his sharp, blue eyes. Eugene procured the tracking fob from his pocket and set it on the table. The red light on top flashed more now than it had since he received it.

"I'm hunting a fugitive," Eugene explained, "Any information you have will help a great deal. I believe once they are removed, the violence will leave with them."

Ack-Ack nodded thoughtfully, "We've had others like you come through here--Well," he stopped himself to smile at Eugene playfully, "There are no others quite like you, I'm sure," he shook his head, "I've heard promises before. Empty promises."

"Then you _are_ right," Eugene squared his shoulders, "I'm nothing like those who came before. I won't make a promise to y'all I can't keep. I promise I will try my best to put an end to your troubles. I just need you to point me in the right direction."

"There's a compound, not far from here," Eddie explained as he entered from behind Eugene and Eugene _almost_ jumped, "Used to be some futzin' airfield trainin' yard or another. Lotta scrap. Whatever band of mercenary slumbags you're lookin' for are dug in there real nice n' deep."

"Yes," Ack-Ack agreed with a tilted nod and a solemn look, "We've shown it to other bounty hunters before. None have returned."

"An airfield?" Eugene confirmed, "Then that's where I need to be going. If you could provide me with coordinates, I'd be much obliged."

Eddie snorted out a rude laugh at the same time Ack-Ack offered a rueful smile. "The terrain is treacherous, too steep for speeders and too rocky to climb or walk. I'm afraid there's only one way to get there," Ack-Ack sounded regretful but the corner of his mouth hitched up in a barely-there smile, "You have to ride the blurrgs."

There was no way Euege was riding one of those scaly, walking sets of jaws just waiting to chomp. No way in Mandalore's great blue sunrise.

Eugene let out another uncontrollable yelp and ahead of him Eddie laughed again. The blurrg Eugene was riding was named _Gunny_ , the oldest of the tame blurrgs and therefore most reliable but also 'prone to kicking' according to Ack-Ack. Every step they took, Eugene grew more and more paranoid the old reptile was going to buck him off and down the cavernous ravine of sharp, deadly rocks they'd just climbed up. Eddie was still amused but a serious furrow had creased his brow when he glanced at Eugene again.

"You gotta relax," he offered, "Trust him and he'll trust you. Ain’t you Mandalorians supposed to know all that stuff? Pretty sure your ancestors rode Mythosaurs like it was nothin’."

Eugene scowled at the other man behind his helm but allowed himself a moment to process what he was hearing. This stranger was right, the old breed of Mandalorian before the fall of Mandalore, before the _Empire_ , tamed and domesticated the fabled Mythosaur. Ancient Mandalorians had many flaws but they were undoubtedly brave, conquering souls. Eugene took a slow breath in and relaxed on a deep exhale. Running a careful hand along Gunny’s bald head, Eugene loosened his grip on the creature’s reins and allowed the old blurrg to lead. Gunny carried Eugene the rest of the way, steady and sure.

Once they reached a particularly deep ravine cut into the arid, cracked sheets of sand flats that constituted Peleliu-7’s surface, Eddie pulled his blurrg to a gentle stop. “There,” he said, pointing Eugene down the length of the cavern, “The airfield you’re lookin’ for is down there.”

“Thank you,” Eugene reached into his armor and pulled free a pouch of credits.

Eddie snorted and shook his head. For a moment he looked at Eugene, a thoughtful crease in his brow. “You know, I ain’t never met a Mandalorian before, only ever heard stories,” he explained, “If any of them are true, you’ll make short work of those mercenaries soon enough and they’ll be out of our hair. Once and for all.”

Eugene only inclined his head to show he’d heard, and understood, the other man before Eddie pulled away and took his blurrg back the way they came. Wasting no time, Eugene dismounted Gunny and looped his reins over a broken rock under a shady rock shelter. Then he made his way around the cliffside and carefully climbed down. Once he was near enough, Eugene slowly sank into a belly-crawl, moving across the heated, sandy rock. He reached the ravine’s edge where he could see the old airfield below. 

Through his rifle's scope, Eugene observed the details of the mercenaries holed up in the ruins. It was clear they had numbers. Right away, he could see multiple guards loitering around the center of the compound. Just as Eugene took note of the centermost building and its large doors, he was shaken from his focus when all the guards turned on the offensive, looking the same direction.

"Subparagraph 16 of the Bondsman Guild protocol waiver compels you to immediately produce my asset," the bounty droid said as he approached, "So hand the asset over and we won't have any problems, huh?"

Oh, Eugene knew that particular bounty droid. B1-L1 was very hard to forget. Not only because he was the only bounty droid in the Guild without a factory set personality but because the droid was notorious for getting himself into sticky situations only to get _most_ of himself back out again. One eye piece on his face plate was a shiny, glowing protocol droid optic he'd welded on after losing a battle with a sonic grenade. B1-L1 insisted it worked just fine and the replacement eye didn't seem to muck up his aim any. 

Eugene watched B1-L1 march up to the compound full of mercenaries with no concern for his own safety and cursed under his breath. He scrambled down the cliff's edge just in time for the blaster fire to start. As Eugene charged into the airfield, low and behind as much cover as he could, he could hear B1-L1 reissuing his commands to the mercenaries. Eugene spotted one of the Nikto raise their blaster at the droid and promptly shot the merc down. The bounty hunters made short work of the mercenaries who hadn't run into the central building and closed themselves in behind thick blaster doors.

"Hey!" Eugene called out and the assassin droid spun his way, immediately firing his blaster. The charged beam ricocheted off of Eugene's newest shoulder pauldron, "Watch it, B!"

"Sorry, Mando," B1-L1 didn't sound apologetic at all, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"This is my bounty," Eugene lifted his tracking fob, "Looks like the Guild passed out multiple fobs for the same asset."

"Sucks to be you then," B1-L1 dismissed, "I got here first."

"Since your hands are lookin' a little _empty_ , how about we work together and split the reward?" Eugene proposed, knowing getting into that stronghold full of mercs would take an army. Or, at least, the two of them.

Scanning their surroundings, B1-L1 seemed to come to the same conclusion, "Fine. We're agreed then."

Without waiting for Eugene, B1-L1 stomped off to the compound. Stragglers fired on their position so Eugene had no choice but to join the fray. His preferred tactical approach was a tad more stealthy and prepared, but Eugene could work with this. He watched as the scaly, orange face of a Nikto mercenary peered out from behind cover so Eugene blasted that ugly head right off the merc's shoulders. He was so focused on ducking low to mislead the enemy's eye line that he missed the gunslinger behind B1-L1. Their blaster fire tore through B1-L1's carapace before Eugene could react. B1-L1 spun in the next second and put the Nikto down with one easy shot.

Red alarms were blaring from B1-L1 by the time they'd made it to the blaster doors. Eugene checked his tracking fob and sure enough, their asset was inside. He'd just turned to relay that information to B1-L1, when the droid cut him off.

"Warning, self destruct protocols imminent," B1-L1's voice had turned all official droid before he quickly fell back into the strange accent he'd picked up, "Druk! My protocol's to self destruct if capture's a possibility and we're lookin' pretty outnumbered here, Mando."

Eugene lifted his head from cover just in time to see the mercenaries drag in a _blaster cannon._ The gun was mounted on its own hovercraft and massive. Three mercs were arming it and working it into position. Once that cannon was turned on Eugene and B1-L1, they were done for. A gun like that could take out an entire army. Probably _had_ if it was from the Clone Wars like the rest of the junk in the airfield. Which actually gave Eugene an idea.

"Stop self destructing, B, I have a plan!" Eugene ducked behind a nearby collumn that would offer cover from blasters but didn't stand a chance against that cannon.

"I don't work like that!" B1-L1 shot back before his computing systems input Eugene shooting down the three Nikto on the cannon and he calculated what that meant, "Now that's my kind of crazy! Go, I'll cover you."

Eugene vaulted over the debris shield in front of him. While he made for the cannon, B1-L1 provided cover fire. Eugene had never used a blaster cannon before. As his feet landed on the hovercraft, his hands naturally found the trigger holds. He gripped it tightly, leaning back and using his weight to spin the gun around so it was facing the gathered group of Nikto mercenaries. He saw all of their black eyes collectively widen in shock and understanding right before Eugene unleashed havoc.

The cannon's barrels, of which there were _four_ , spun rapidly as they spit out a rain of blaster fire. Every shot tore through walls, concrete cover, and durasteel armor like it was nothing. Eugene sprayed the ground with blaster fire but missed the single merc hiding on one of the building's roofs. His rifle blast hit Eugene's bicep, just below his blaster-proof Beskar pauldron. Cursing, Eugene dipped low, aiming the cannon high, and tore the entire roof off of the building in a blaze of blaster fire. Once the whirring machine slowed to a stop, the silence it left behind was deafening.

"Remind me to never piss you off," B1-L1 interrupted the quiet.

Eugene dismounted the weapon and pointedly avoided the carnage he'd caused. That much fire power in one person's hands was deeply unsettling. He shouldered past the droid who turned to follow him to the blaster doors that were still sealed shut. Both of their tracking fobs were blinking rapidly at whatever lay behind them so they both knew the only way forward was through. They shared a brief glance, making sure they were on the same page, before tearing through the walls around the door with the blaster cannon.

They both stood in cover on either side as the door came crashing down at their feet. With their blaster pistols drawn, Eugene and B1-L1 were ready for the storm of blaster fire that followed the creation of a brand new opening to the building's interior. The remainder of the mercenaries were too stubborn to give up so Eugene and B1-L1 had no choice but to take them out. The pair of them pressed forward, weapons at the ready. 

Inside the building, it was dusty and dark, whatever light streaming in through the new doorway got caught on the sand in the air. Eugene kept his blaster pistol raised, plucking off the occasional straggler who crept from the darkness. He was so focused on following his tracking fob he missed when a particularly burly Nikto mercenary jumped out behind him. Eugene heard the charge of a blaster rifle and whirled around just in time to see a flash skin as the mercenary was tackled aside.

In the dark, two men were wrestling for the rifle on the dusty floor. Without hesitation, Eugene shot the Nikto merc in the head and kicked the blaster rifle away. He kept his gun raised, but paused. The man at the end of his rifle's barrel had to have been the one who saved his life not moments before. Eugene watched him push himself up into a crouch and tuck himself against the wall. He hadn't looked up to see Eugene's gun trained on him yet and Eugene took a second to look him over, finger on the trigger. 

The man was scuffed up, covered head to toe in scrapes and bruises. His pants were cinched at the waist and too big everywhere else, rolled up over his ankles. The leather boots he was wearing had been cut into sandals, a strap over the middle and a heel still intact. He had no shirt and his tanned skin was covered in a layer of grime. A restraint collar was cuffed around his throat and from what Eugene could tell his arms were in cuffs behind his back, hooked up to the collar from behind. Attached to the collar in the front was a muzzle, durasteel plates holding his mouth shut, silencing him. Eugene understood restraining a fugitive but such methods were out of date and, in his opinion, immoral.

"Guess this is our guy," B1-L1 said as he approached, startling Eugene from his thoughts.

Eugene looked down at the tracking fob in his hand and realized it was flashing rapidly, denoting this man as their asset. When he looked up again, the asset was staring at him. All the air left his lungs when their gazes locked. Eugene felt swept away in the man's eyes, a color strikingly reminiscent of stormy seas and ocean waves. They were a tempest. Even though he was crouched down, pressed up against the wall, he didn't seem like prey cornered but a predator ready to pounce.

B1-L1 trained his blaster on the asset and began reciting the Bondsman Guild code. Just then, the fugitive's eyes widened. He tried to speak, Eugene guessed, but through his clenched jaw the man could only grunt. When he ducked his head suddenly Eugene instinctively did the same. Blaster fire ripped through B1-L1's head and the droid let out a crack of static before toppling to the floor. Eugene spun and used the flamethrower on his wrist to burn the attacking mercenary before he could fire again.

"Shab," Eugene cursed under his breath before turning to the asset, "Come on. We have to get out of here while we can."

The man hesitated so Eugene impatiently reached down and grabbed him by his bicep. He let out a strangled sound of pain when Eugene hauled him to his feet. Only when Eugene turned to him, the man wasn't cowering, he was _glaring_. Then Eugene's eyes flicked down and he froze. The man's left arm was indeed restrained. His right shoulder, however, was a shattered mess of broken durasteel and frayed wires that ended abruptly where his arm should have started. The one-armed man in his hold snorted, laughing at Eugene's surprise. It shook Eugene from his stupor.

"Let's move," Eugene commanded with the steadiest voice he could muster. The asset rolled his eyes in response and Eugene got the impression he was only following Eugene for lack of better options.

The man was what Eugene had been expecting: a ruffian, covered in dirt and sweat, scuffed up from fighting with a black eye and dried blood on his nose, and yet _nothing_ like Eugene had been expecting. The binds restraining him were excessive and painful, Eugene had seen bigger, badder fugitives brought to tears in less, and the cracking sparks where the man's prosthetic metal arm had been torn off had to hurt. Still, the asset didn't let on he was afraid or in pain. Instead he met a Mandalorian and he _laughed_ at him. 

Eugene felt drawn to this man. He couldn't help but stare as he led the asset away from the airfield, a solid grip on his arm. His eyes were not singular, perse; they were an off blue-grey that looked green in the setting sun, but they were large and bright amongst the dark skin and hair of the man's features. When he caught Eugene watching him, his cracked lips split into a smirk and he winked. Eugene immediately looked away, grunting for the man to hurry up. If they were lucky, they'd reach Ack-Ack and Eddie by nightfall.


	2. The Asset

Eugene considered himself many things but _lucky_ was not among them. It was not luck that brought Eugene out to the galaxy from the Tribe's sanctuary, nor was it luck that kept him alive hunting bounties. Eugene's own hard work and talent was what saved his life over and over, not some invisible force like _luck_. On their way back to Gunny, the two of them entered a ravine, a valley between two rocky cliffs, and Eugene felt a familiar prickle up his spine. The place was perfect for an ambush, he thought, and not a second later was proven right.

Four men descended from above but Eugene had been expecting it. He shoved the asset away and watched him land a good distance from their attackers. Even though Eugene had drawn his pistol, the second he’d taken to secure the asset was enough for one of the other men to swing their stun stick down into his hand and knock the gun out of his grip. Eugene wasted no time grabbing the staff from the man’s hold and zapping him in the chest. The man flew back and Eugene knew then their weapons were not set to stun but to kill.

The others came for him all together but Eugene was well-practiced with weapons such as these. He ducked one incoming blow, swept the man’s feet out to knock him down, and brought the sparking end of his staff up into another’s gut. As he stood, he landed a solid kick to the face of the man on the ground. The two were swiftly incapacitated and that meant there was one man left. Only the last attacker was not going after Eugene. The Mandalorian turned just in time to see him rushing the asset, weapon raised. A look of terror flashed across the asset’s face. Eugene hadn’t even had time for a spare thought before his amban rifle was raised and the man in front of the asset was blasted into dust at his feet.

Both Eugene and the asset watched as a flashing red tracking fob landed on the sandy ground with what remained of the dead man’s cloak. The asset’s eyes flicked up to look at Eugene. He swallowed thickly and Eugene watched the metal collar at his throat bob. The asset’s face was a mixture of afraid and impressed. Eugene ignored it, stalking over to him and hauling him back to his feet. He tried not to think about how the men he’d just killed were from the guild and instead focused on getting out of there as soon as possible.

Gunny was where Eugene had left him, lazily chewing on some dried up foliage. It was not a surprise to him that night descended around them while they were still a good distance out from the K-35. Travelling in the dark on such unfamiliar and treacherous paths was not a good idea so Eugene decided to stop and make camp for the night.

The asset grunted when Eugene shoved him down to sit by his carefully constructed fire. As Eugene took a seat next to him, he caught the man’s gleaming grey eyes narrow into a glare and huffed in response. Eugene decidedly ignored the way the other man shifted around, shimmying down to lean his bare back against a rock behind him and stretch out his legs and he definitely didn’t think about the pinched look of pain that flashed over his face. There was no reason to worry over it; Eugene had no means to remove the durasteel restraints from the other man even if he wanted to. The comfort of an asset was never something Eugene fretted over before and he wasn’t going to start now.

Finally settled down, Eugene became aware of the burning pain in his bicep he’d done a masterful job of ignoring until then. The blaster burn wasn’t the worst he’d ever had but it was bloody and messy nonetheless. As he inspected it, Eugene caught the asset watching him. Not wanting the man to think Eugene was at any kind of disadvantage, Eugene yanked a strip of fabric over the wound tightly.

“Sleep,” he demanded, more sharply than he intended.

The asset snorted dismissively and looked away. Eugene let his helmet hide the fact that he was watching the other man. The asset was gritting his teeth, tensed up tight, and Eugene only noticed then that the man was trying to keep from shivering. The desert sun had given way to two silvery moons which brought a chill to the air. Eugene had barely noticed under his armor. With a sigh, Eugene added a bit more fuel to the flames and let himself believe he did it because he wanted the extra light and not because the asset was cold.

Two adult men didn’t fit on the back of a blurrg without invading some personal space. Last night, Eugene had thrown the other man over his stomach across Gunny’s back, but it ended up impeding the old lizard’s agility. So when the morning sun just began to peek over the horizon, Eugene situated the asset on the saddle in front of him and slid into place behind. 

As he put his arms past either of the man’s sides to grip the reins, the asset tensed. Without the use of his arm, still restrained behind him, the asset had no way to hang on for support. Eugene watched the man shift in the seat nervously and begrudgingly wound an arm across his chest to hold him steady. He jumped a fraction and sent Eugene an equally surprised and suspicious look. Eugene’s face warmed under the scrutiny, happy that it was hidden under his armor.

“You fall off and get trampled, I don’t get paid,” Eugene growled.

The man’s chapped lips spread into a grin over his clenched jaw. One of his eyebrows quirked playfully. Then, to Eugene’s great dismay, the asset squirmed around and relaxed comfortably back into his hold. His head fell onto Eugene’s Beskar pauldron like it was a nice, little pillow and not cold, unforgiving metal. Eugene’s eyes darted to the man’s smirk then down to the collar stretching and pulling at the long column of his throat and instantly away once he realized what he was doing. Ignoring the man’s muffled laugh, Eugene ordered the blurrg to move.

Ack-Ack and Eddie's moisture farm came into view sooner than Eugene had been expecting but not as soon as he'd hoped. The asset leaning against him was looking worse for wear, unable to hide his wincing and labored breathing caused by the combined discomfort of uneven terrain and inhumane restraints. The muscles and skin around his mutilated shoulder were twitching in pain. Eugene wasn't a particularly sympathetic person but he wasn't _cruel_. Once he pulled Gunny to a stop, Eugene dismounted first and then helped the other man down more gently than either had been expecting. The asset narrowed his eyes at Eugene as he helped him steady himself.

Ack-Ack and Eddie had exited their abode at his approach and when Eugene spotted them, he immediately recognized dark criticism in their eyes. They were staring at the man over Eugene's shoulder and no doubt taking in the way he was unable to hide the pain twisted into his tense features. Eugene caught him by his bicep to hold him up as he moved toward the other two men.

"Ack-Ack, Eddie," he acknowledged with a curt nod, "Could I borrow some tools? These restraints go against code regulations," Eugene did not want to admit he wanted to remove them simply because he felt _guilty_ about the asset's pain, "I do not abide by the use of such...excessive means."

Ack-Ack nodded first and Eugene did not miss the way his expression eased. "I'm sure we have something," he motioned for Eugene to follow him inside and he did, dragging the asset along with him.

Eddie glanced at them as they passed, "Got some soldering tools. I'll bring em. Fix up that arm too."

Eugene nodded, watching as the asset's wide eyes blinked rapidly. He clearly hadn't been expecting any form of kindness and that made Eugene's stomach twist uncomfortably. Eugene remembered suddenly the ex-Imperial who had hired him. He wondered what a man could do to warrant the mire of the Empire, _ex-Empire_ , and found himself imagining no slight he himself wouldn't commit. As he dropped the asset into a chair at the table next to Ack-Ack, Eugene reminded himself that it didn't matter what the man with enticing eyes had done to bring the wrath of the ex-Imperial down on himself, Eugene's job was to bring him in alive. The Tribe was relying on him to secure that Beskar and he would not let them down.

Ack-Ack dragged his chair over to the asset's side and sat down. He hummed, thoughtful, as he examined the muzzle. When he brought a hand up to check the durability, the asset flinched away. He glanced over his shoulder quickly, looking at Eugene, before scowling and looking away again just as fast. Ack-Ack's eyes softened. The second time he touched the asset it was with slow, telegraphed movements that made the younger man tense up but not pull away again. Ack-Ack turned the man's face just enough to check where the muzzle met the metal collar and Eugene saw a deep sadness pool in the man's blue gaze as he took in the severe bruising and chaffed skin.

"I can get this muzzle off," he said finally, standing, "Shouldn't take but a moment."

“Remove it all. I have standard issue cuffs. There’s no need for any of that,” Eugene gestured to the hand still twisted up the asset’s back, and the red, raw skin there as well.

Ack-Ack smiled, quick but genuine, “I can do that.”

Eugene crossed his arms and leaned back against one of the metal beams supporting the structure to wait. Ack-Ack took his time cutting away at the metal restraints, with more care than Eugene himself would have bothered to use. Eddie returned with an armful of tools that he set on the table next to Ack-Ack's elbow. They exchanged words quickly, in some language Eugene didn't recognize. The asset's steely gaze darted toward Eugene again, briefly, but he nodded like he, at least, did.

Finally, Ack-Ack snapped the younger man free. Immediately, he brought his arm around to yank the durasteel away from his neck and face. The restraints dropped to the sandy floor with a hearty thunk. The asset worked his jaw open, back and forth, as he rubbed at the dark bruises circling his throat. There were purple marks scraped into the tops of his collar bones, stretching up under his chin, stripes of bruises on his cheeks too. He licked at his lips and cleared his throat.

"Sorry we don't have much in the way of medicine," Ack-Ack scooted his chair around just enough to get a better look at the asset's missing arm, "I can fix this up a bit, though, if you want."

The asset shrugged, spoke in a hoarse whisper; he was facing Ack-Ack but his eyes were trained on Eugene. "Help yaself,” he croaked.

"Mandalorian, grab a jug off the counter over there, will you?" Ack-Ack motioned to a series of clay jars sitting side-by-side, "Get him something to drink."

Eugene didn't much care for being ordered around, as a rule, but the way Ack-Ack issued the command felt more like a suggestion, as if Eugene had simply forgotten to do something and needed reminding. It didn't raise his hackles like he'd been expecting. Instead, Eugene found himself following the command easily enough. He didn't want to go through all this trouble just for the asset to die of dehydration, after all. He scooped up a jar, popped the lid off, and examined the contents inside with his helmet. As expected, it was water. Clean and even a little cool in its clay confines.

He stalked over to the asset's side. Ack-Ack had begun to solder the ends of the frayed wires so the asset was sitting stock still. Eugene waited for Ack-Ack to pause before moving forward, water jug in hand. When the asset reached for it, Eugene pulled it back. The man scowled, puffed his chest and squared his shoulders. Eugene could tell he was readying for a fight.

"I'm not handing you a weapon," Eugene said shortly before the other man could speak, "This ain't my first gig."

The asset deflated, a little, but he was still on edge and staring at the water in Eugene's hand. He gulped, looked up at Eugene with big eyes under thick lashes, but in no way seemed ready to beg him for it. The way the asset's whole, wiry body was wound up tight reminded Eugene of a viper ready to strike. Absolutely confident in its own power and lethality. Eugene wasn't trying to be cruel or looking for a dust up, though, so he moved in closer again.

"I'll do it," Eugene reassured but didn't allow room for argument, "Just sit still."

When he reached out a gloved hand, the asset almost pulled away. Eugene could see that he wanted to. Instead, he let one of Eugene's hands cradle the back of his head while the other brought the jar of water to his lips. He tilted his head back and Eugene supported him while he drank the water down enthusiastically. Trying to keep the other man from making himself sick, Eugene went to pull the jug back. The asset's hand shot out but only to grab at Eugene's wrist, trying to urge the water back to his lips. The desperation in those ocean eyes broke Eugene's resolve. He allowed the man to drink deeply, only stopping when the asset used his grip on Eugene's forearm to push the jug back.

"Thanks," his voice sounded breathless but much smoother than before. There was a curious lilt to his words that Eugene found oddly intriguing. 

"Don't get paid if you die of thirst," Eugene replied shortly.

The asset smiled. Without the restraints and up close like this Eugene was startled to find he thought the filthy, bruisy criminal was attractive. Under all the dirt and grime, under all the blood and bruising, he could be _stunning._ The other man's gaze darted down to where Eugene was still holding him and Eugene immediately pulled back. He cleared his throat while the asset laughed at him. That was much nicer without the muzzle on too. Eugene hated that he didn't hate it.

After a quiet moment of Eugene standing by the door not sulking, Ack-Ack finally announced he was finished. He looked sheepish as he explained that he’d done the best he could and that he was no medic droid but Eugene didn’t miss the relaxed tilt to the asset’s shoulders. It was obvious the man was in a lot less pain. Eugene would hazard a guess he wasn’t _comfortable_ but he was no longer struggling to breathe through the pain or tense enough the muscles under his skin spasmed. 

“It’s good enough,” Eugene nodded his thanks to Ack-Ack.

“Mm,” the asset hummed, an affirmative noise, “Feels like a _dream_.”

When he spoke a shiver was sent rippling down Eugene’s spine. His voice wasn’t deep but it had a certain alluring timbre. The slowness with which he spoke made every word sound like it was crawling out of his throat, lazily drawled and somehow charming. Eugene had travelled much of the galaxy and never heard anything quite like it. He’d never met anyone quite like the asset either. Or been as drawn to someone as he was to the other man.

Eugene snapped a cuff on the asset's wrist before he could give himself anymore time to think. The other cuff he clamped onto his own. His standard issue restraints were held together by a force field and tethered together at an adjustable distance. With the asset wearing one and him the other, the cuff was effective in keeping him from moving too far away from Eugene. They were both free to move around so long as they didn't stray apart. The asset huffed but didn't fight Eugene on it.

"I ain't goin' nowhere," the asset spun his wrist, checking out the cuff, "'m better off with you than them Nikto Hutt-spawn anyhow."

Eddie made a suspicious noise, spit the sand out of his mouth, "Why'd they have you all trussed up like that anyhow?"

The asset scoffed, "Thought I could control they minds or sumthin', _mind tricks_ they said," he made a disbelieving noise, "Whoever heard that? Fuckin' lunatics," he shook his head, "Don't know why I'm so damn popular all a sudden."

"So you _are_ the one they all came here lookin' for then?" Eddie asked.

The asset opened his mouth but Eugene beat him to it. "Yes," Eugene answered, "Thank you for your help," he fished the pouch full of credits out from his armor again. Instead of handing it over, he set it on the table next to Ack-Ack, "We'll be going now."

The asset stood before Eugene could drag him out of his seat. He stretched his arm up over his head and Eugene watched the muscles of his back flex. Eugene thought about how slender the man in front of him was, compared their physiques. They were the same height, nearly the same weight. Eugene was bigger but not by much. He had a little more muscle or at least a little more thickness, but he didn't doubt the strength hidden in the other man's lean frame. The asset was more defined. Eugene considered his own muscles beneath a layer of healthy flesh and thought perhaps the only reason the asset's were so defined was because he had no extra weight to spare.

"Come on," Eugene snapped, "We're losing light."

The asset simply rolled his eyes at Eugene over his shoulder, then gestured at the door as if saying _go on_. With a huff under his helmet, Eugene pressed a flat hand between the asset's shoulder blades and gave him a shove. He'd meant for it to be rougher, harder, than it ended up being. The asset didn't even stumble, just let himself be steered out of the door. Eugene looked back to thank the other two men but paused when he caught them exchanging smirks. They quickly schooled their faces.

Eugene cleared his throat, "Thank you for all your help. I'm much obliged."

"So are we," Ack-Ack smiled then glanced over Eugene's shoulder, "Be careful out there. Watch out for yourself, Mandalorian."

Eddie snorted, "Keep an eye on that one too."

Eugene hesitated. He thought about the Armorer, about the foundlings, about the Tribe, and their sanctuary. He remembered the first time he'd seen the asset's eyes, the smile that broke across the man's scuffed up features. How he'd never felt the way the asset made him feel before. He remembered the Armorer's words: _this is the way._ The only truth he'd ever known. Eugene nodded. Then he ducked out of their home and back into the warm desert air of Peleliu-7.


	3. The Egg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who gave kudos and commented! You guys inspire me and it means a lot~

As they came over the rocky bluff above the K-35, Eugene spotted an enemy vessel below. The asset's annoying humming burst into a yelp when Eugene grabbed his arm and yanked him down into cover. Quickly, Eugene spun his rifle in front of himself. Looking down the scope, he spotted a group of Jawa scavvers destroying his ship. A furious growl tore from his throat as Eugene took aim. Coldness washed over him, a sense of calm that came with furious focus. Eugene zeroed one of the Jawa into his sights and with a steady breath pulled the trigger.

The Jawa turned to ashes. His companions scrambled, calling out to each other in a panic. He took another cartridge out of the ammo belt on his thigh and loaded it. Next to him, the asset let out a startled breath. Eugene aimed his rifle again, decimated another Jawa. As he reloaded his gun, the Jawas ran back and forth, dropping their salvage and hurrying back to their ship. Eugene shot another one. And another. The asset reached out, grabbed Eugene's forearm, and shoved his rifle down. Eugene turned a furious growl on the other man only to see the asset was watching him with shocked eyes and a clenched jaw.

Before the asset could speak, Eugene tore himself away. He swung his rifle back over his shoulder and jumped down the bluff. Behind him, the asset followed. Eugene watched the Jawa ship close its bay doors and begin rolling away. Eugene refused to look at the sorry state of the K-35 and aimed his weapon once more at the Jawas, blasting a hole in their engines. The ship didn't slow. Eugene's fury didn't lessen. He took off running after them. Behind, the asset called out for him to wait but Eugene was too focused to pay him any mind.

Eugene leapt onto the metal ladder on the side of the Jawas' massive ship. He wasn't sure if he was looking to retrieve his stolen parts or looking for violent revenge. Either way, Eugene hauled himself up and climbed the side of the roving metal beast. Jawas opened vents and fired on him; Eugene fired back. From the top of the ship, more Jawas hurled scrap parts and metal pieces down at him. They bounced off of Eugene's armor. He saw an approaching cliff, one that would scrape him clean off the side of the ship, at the same time Eugene heard a voice below him.

"Hey, asshole!" the asset was yelling up from where he too was clinging to the ship's side, "I'm still fuckin' _attatched!_ "

Eugene cursed under his breath. The rocky cliff's edge was coming up fast. Eugene gave up on the Jawas to drop down the ladder, ending up beside the asset. The man was staring at him with fury and awe and fear. It made Eugene's stomach churn with guilt. He didn't have time to strategize. All Eugene knew was he had to get them off the ship before they were smashed to paste. He scooped up the asset, pulled his back into Eugene's chest, and leapt off the ship backward. He landed on his back hard enough to knock the wind out of him in the sandy rock below, the asset safely in his arms. The other man immediately shoved himself out of Eugene's grip and punched Eugene in the gut under his armor before he had time to catch his breath.

"Ya fuckin' asshole. The hell's your problem?"

Eugene growled, still breathless, "They _destroyed_ my ship!"

"Jawas don't destroy, they _steal_."

"Stolen or destroyed, makes no difference!" Eugene sat himself up so he could glare at the other man even though he couldn't see it under his helmet, "They're protected by that ship, that _fortress,_ there's no way to get my parts back."

The asset shoved his way to his feet, "You could _trade_ with em ya know. Better'n _slaughterin'_ em like that."

"Trade?" Eugene snapped, standing as well, "With Jawas? Are you crazy?"

"Not anymore than _you_ ," the asset shot back, "The hell were ya thinkin', jumping on the ship like that?"

"I wasn't," Eugene admitted sharply, "How do you know they'll even trade with me?"

"Cause they're _Jawas_ ," the asset said, like it was obvious.

Eugene took a slow breath. He wouldn’t consider himself an angry man. There was a reason that among the Mandalorians, he was the one away from their sanctuary collecting bounties. The image of Eugene’s father being shot in the back by an Imperial droid flashed across his mind. Eugene _wasn’t_ an angry man. His eyes found a fresh scrape on the asset’s side from when they landed on the rough ground. It was bleeding but mostly superficial. Eugene could feel the bruises forming across his upper back from where he’d taken the brunt of the impact. All wounds that were easily avoidable and undeniably his fault.

“Come on,” he bent to pick up his rifle that had landed next to them, another inexcusable mistake, “I need to take stock of the damage.”

The asset sighed but followed him nonetheless. Once inside the K-35, Eugene's wrath ebbed somewhat. The Jawas had taken scrap from the hull and much of his supplies but the finer machinery of the ship was left untouched. Most of the damage done was strictly on the surface level and would only take a few hours to piece back together. If Ack-Ack and Eddie would extend their generosity a little further and lend him some tools. And if the Jawas would agree to a trade like the asset seemed so confident they would. Eugene pushed himself out from under the main console, tentative plan formed.

When he stood, he saw the asset was sitting on a supply crate in the cargo hold. The durasteel crate was empty now. Leaning back on his hand, the asset was kicking his legs back and forth while idly examining a tear in his pants. His knobby knee was poking out of a hole that hadn't been there before their run-in with the Jawas. There was a scrape on his knee to match the one on his side. The asset didn't seem put out by his injuries, if anything he just looked bored. Eugene sighed.

He didn't have much need for personal supplies like extra clothes on his ship. Mostly Eugene wore his armor, his under armor, and a thin shirt and breeches below that, all of which he cleaned and rewore on rota. Because he believed in being prepared, however, Eugene had spare clothes just in case. He fished a shirt out from his narrow bunk just past the cargo deck. It was nothing more than an off white blouse with an open collar and no sleeves. Still, it would shield the asset from the sun and his wound from the sand. He stalked over to the other man and threw the shirt at his head. Eugene pretended he didn't see the way the asset's lips quirked as he pulled the vest on.

"We can follow the tracks," Eugene didn't know why he was explaining his plan but he pointed out the tracks in the sand left behind by the Jawas' ship anyway, "They'll probably lead us to their camp."

The asset grunted an affirmative sound in response. When Eugene glanced back at him, the asset was looking at Eugene, not the ground or the tracks. Eugene felt their gazes meet even through his helmet. The asset's big, expressive eyes were intense, trained on him like they could see right through Eugene's armor, past his clothes and skin, down into his soul. He hadn't moved from his post on the crate but his posture was no longer relaxed.

When the asset finally spoke, his voice was still slow and sweet even though it was ice cold, "What you gonna do when we find em?"

" _Trade_ ," Eugene snapped, "That's what you said right? That they'd trade?"

The asset ducked his head and grinned, just a quick flash of teeth. Then he nodded once, like whatever Eugene said was what he'd been looking for.

"Ain't ever met a Jawa not willin' to trade," the asset jumped to his feet, "Smart lil bastards."

Eugene snorted. Jawas were known for being a lot of things but _smart_ rarely made the list. When the asset quirked a challenging eyebrow at him, Eugene decided to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't like Eugene was an expert on Jawa culture or anything. There was no reason for him to argue even if thinking about the little scavengers still made his blood boil.

Eugene was not surprised that the asset was apparently fluent in Jawa. He himself knew a few words but Jawa rolled off the asset's tongue with the same slow, charming ease as basic. Eugene wouldn't admit he was impressed but when they approached the Jawa camp he was sure the little scavvers were going to shoot them down. The asset had lifted his hand to show he was unarmed and talked the Jawas down. Eugene held his amban rifle in front of him but pointed at the ground, just in case things turned sideways.

"Hm," the asset glanced back at Eugene, "They want ya to lose the rifle."

"I'm a Mandalorian," Eugene snapped, repeated what he was getting too used to saying, "Weapons are part of my religion."

"Then you ain't gettin' ya shit back," the asset said, matter of fact.

Eugene sighed, slung his rifle off his shoulder, and set it on the ground. Then he raised his hands to show he wasn't a threat. The Jawas said something to the asset and he nodded.

Then he pointed to the pistol on Eugene's waist, "The blaster too."

The asset stepped further into the Jawa camp, not waiting for Eugene to obey or follow. Eugene had no choice, really. He dropped his blaster next to his rifle and stalked after the asset. The other man followed the lead of the head Jawa and knelt on a cloth spread over the sand. Eugene mimicked him. As the Jawa leader and the asset discussed negotiations, Eugene could only pick out the occasional word here and there.

"They want the Beskar," the asset said eventually but didn't wait for Eugene to speak before continuing, "He's a Mandalorian, he _ain't_ tradin' the Beskar." Then he slipped back into Jawa, probably to reiterate his point.

"There's got to be something else they want," Eugene barked impatiently.

The asset chewed his lip for a second before speaking to the leader again, his tone serious and borderline desperate. The Jawas whispered amongst themselves. The leader turned to the Jawas behind and they gestured wildly, in some kind of heated discussion. When finally the leader turned back to them, the Jawa lifted a hand and all of the others behind fell silent again. The leader spoke with surety. Eugene watched the asset's eyebrows furrow. Eugene suddenly recognized one of the words.

"Egg?" he asked, flabbergasted, "What egg? What are they talking about?"

The asset shrugged a shoulder, giving Eugene a look that conveyed as much confusion as he felt. He turned back to the leader, spoke again. Eugene didn't know what he was saying but he heard the word _egg_ again and recognized the intonation of a question in his voice. All the Jawas around them cackled.

"He said egg, man," the asset finally spoke to him, "They want ya to get it for them," then he shrugged again, "They willin' to trade all ya shit back for it. Must be some fuckin' egg."

"Alright, _fine,_ " Eugene hissed, looked at the leader, "Where?"

The Jawas all cheered and Eugene got the sinking feeling he was going to regret agreeing to this. The Jawas stuffed the two of them into their ship and neither could stand up in the short, narrow corridors. The asset sat on the floor and joked back and forth with some of the Jawas. Eugene stood, bent over the main console, and refused to look anywhere but out of the front window. When he did turn his head to one of the co-pilots, the Jawa chanted _egg_ at him again. Eugene sighed under his helmet. 

They pulled up to the opening of a rocky cave and Eugene couldn't get off the Jawa ship fast enough. The asset followed behind him. The two of them walked a few paces away from the Jawa ship, into the muddy flats outside of the cave. Eugene fiddled with his wrist, disengaging the forcefield tether of their cuffs so the asset, unarmed as he was, didn't have to follow Eugene inside. While Eugene checked his weapons, making sure they were loaded, and adjusted his armor so it was secure, he turned to the asset.

"Stay here," he demanded.

The asset mocked, "Yessir," but made no attempt to move.

Eugene didn't give himself time to hesitate before entering the ominous cave. The air was stale, dank, and as Eugene flicked his helmet light on the musty, particle-heavy atmosphere was nearly harder to see through than the dark. When he glanced down to watch his step, Eugene saw bones next to his boots and drew his pistol. He turned to the right just in time to see what he thought was a rock open into an eye. A massive eye staring right at him.

"Shab!" Eugene cursed, spun on his heel, and fired over his shoulder as he ran back toward the cave entrance, "Fuck!"

"What?" the asset jumped when Eugene ran out of the cave, " _W_ _hat_?

Eugene didn't have the chance to offer the other man any kind of explanation as a giant mudhorn burst out of the cavern behind him. Its horn came at him and Eugene braced for impact as it slammed into his chest and launched him into the air. The blaster in his hand went flying. His back slammed into the mud but Eugene wasted no time shoving his way to his feet and spinning his rifle out in front of him. The resounding click it made when the mud mucking up its mechanics kept it from firing was louder in Eugene's ears than the sound of the mudhorn's roar. He tried to clear it away but had no time before the creature's massive horn was barreling into him again, sending Eugene back down into the mud. 

The asset gasped and suddenly the beast's sights were set on him. Eugene just managed to leverage himself up when he saw that the asset wasn't running out of the way. There was panic in his eyes. As the mudhorn charged him, the asset froze. Immediately, Eugene reactivated the tethering cuff on his wrist.

"Move!" he shouted and yanked his arm with all his might.

The asset was dragged out of the mudhorn's path by the matching cuff on his wrist. Clambering into the mud, the asset scrambled to get away from the mudhorn as it tackled one of the rocky slopes surrounding them. Once the beast shook out any shock from the collision, its eyes were on Eugene once again. It charged. Eugene aimed the flamethrower in his bracer at it but it didn't slow the beast down. Its horn came down on him again, further crushing his chest plate and grinding him down into the mud. Eugene didn't let up though and eventually the mudhorn moved back a step to avoid the fire pouring into its face. Eugene rushed out from under it and away but only managed to put himself in range of its horn again.

The mudhorn swung its head up and Eugene heard the clang of its horn hitting his helmet reverberate through his skull. When he landed, Eugene's vision swam. The Beskar helm had protected him from being gored but the ringing in his ears and spinning sensation in his eyes made him feel like his whole brain was scrambled. The asset called out to him, a warning, just as Eugene heard the mudhorn charging his way again. Eugene hauled himself to his knee, drew the knife from his boot--the only weapon he had left--and readied himself for the incoming blow.

Oddly enough, as Eugene lowered his head to stare at his hands, Eddie's words replayed in his mind. He recalled how Eddie had spoken of the old Mandalorians with awe and respect. They had conquered worlds and Eugene could barely ride a trained blurrg. He thought about how he was never going to be like them. They were predators. Now, Eugene just felt like prey. He was going to die on his knees in the mud. 

The beast bellowed at him, but didn't strike. Eugene's head snapped up. The mudhorn was stuck in place, levitating in the air with its legs kicking back and forth futilely. Eugene blinked. When the asset gasped, Eugene spun to him. He was holding his arm in front of himself, eyebrows drawn in concentration, as if he was the one holding the creature at bay. Their eyes locked. Eugene knew, inexplicably, that's exactly what he was doing. Then the asset's posture wavered, his scraped up knee buckled, and his eyes fell shut. He let out a shaky breath just before he crumpled forward and fell into the mud. 

Instantly, Eugene spun back to the mudhorn and drove his knife deep into the monster's neck. With a rattling final breath, the mudhorn collapsed at Eugene's feet, slain. Eugene panted, trying to catch his breath. He blinked down at the beast he was sure was to be his demise before Eugene jerked his head to the side. The asset was still laying where he'd fallen. For a panicked moment, Eugene thought he might be dead. He raced to the other man's prone form and was relieved to find he was still breathing when Eugene spun him onto his back to check him over. He shook his shoulder but the man remained unresponsive. 

Eugene cursed under his breath. His ribs ached, his head ached, his _fingernails_ ached but Eugene was just glad he was still alive. He stood, gathered his weapons. They were filthy but so was he. He ducked back into the cave to find the Jawas' kriffing egg. Digging in the mud, Eugene eventually came across a solid orb the size of his head, brown and _hairy_. Figured that was what he was looking for. He slung it under his arm. When he returned to the asset's side, the other man was still out cold. Eugene sighed to the sky. 

Kneeling down, Eugene heaved the other man up and dragged him across his shoulders. He nearly fell on his ass when he staggered to his feet. Eugene was strong but he wasn't a _Wookie_. His rifle and one of the asset's legs were secured in one arm and the Jawas' precious _egg_ and the asset's arm were secured in the other. He figured that was the best he was going to get. Eugene spared the sorry body of the mudhorn behind him one last glance before pressing on. Luckily, the Jawa ship wasn't far. 

The asset still hadn't woken up by the time Eugene, Eddie, and Ack-Ack had finished the K-35's repairs. When they'd returned with all of the missing supplies and parts, Eugene had dumped the unconscious man onto the cargo bay floor. He was still laying where Eugene had left him, though Eugene had found the man a spare blanket once the sun had set, remembering how cold he'd been the night before. With the K-35 finally in working order once again, Eugene turned to thank the other two men. He offered them part of the reward and they shot him down.

"Doing the right thing is its own reward," Ack-Ack explained with a smile, "Safe travels, Mandalorian. Come back any time."

"Or don't," Eddie snorted. His eyes flicked down to where the asset was still out cold, "Hope you get everything you're lookin' for outta that."

Ack-Ack sent Eddie a look then reached out to shake Eugene's hand, "Good luck."

Eugene returned the gesture, quick and succinct. "I don't need luck," he replied, "but thank you."


	4. The War pt. 1

Eugene dropped them out of hyperspace when they reached the planet Pavuvu. He hailed the guild's line. Behind him, Eugene felt the asset's eyes on him. He was sitting over Eugene's shoulder in one of the co-pilot seats. Eugene refused to look back at him.

They hadn't spoken much since leaving Peleliu-7. Eugene had tried to ask the man about the battle with the mudhorn but he'd simply cut Eugene off with a rude gesture and locked himself in the fresher. Now he was wearing the rest of Eugene's spare clothes, a pair of brown trousers that he'd rolled up over his ankles again and a light green tunic that buttoned at the collar. The asset had left them all undone. Eugene had to physically turn away to keep from staring at the tease of bruised collarbone exposed by the fabric. When the ship's comm lines chirped, Eugene opened the channel immediately.

A little holographic Sid, the leader of the Bondsman Guild, popped up. "Mando! I got your transmission. Congrats on the big catch," Sid said, smiling proudly. The asset snorted behind Eugene, dropping his feet up onto the main console next to Eugene's elbow. Sid went on, "When you land, get the asset to the client straight away. Don't know if the guy wants to fuck him or kill him but he's antsy as hell," Sid's words sent ice through Eugene's veins. He heard the asset shuffle around behind him, "Come find me when all's said and done. You know where I'll be."

Eugene closed the line without so much as a goodbye. In the silence of the cockpit the click of a lighter was loud. The dragging inhale was louder. Eugene finally looked back. The asset had a stick of spice dangling from his lips. In the dark light of space, the burning red end was gleaming. It cast an ominous copper glow over the asset's features. His eyes were gold in the light of it. They watched Eugene, unblinking and alert. It made Eugene uneasy, more so than he already was. This job felt off in a way Eugene couldn't put his finger on.

"Where'd you get that?" Eugene asked, breaking the quiet between them.

The asset grinned around the rolled paper between his teeth, "Our Jawa friends."

"Spice is illegal, you know,” Eugene huffed.

"Well," the asset started, leaned back in his seat, folded his legs at the ankle, "You heard the man. No matter how this turns out, I'm dead. Might as well make the most of the time I got left." Then he snatched the spice from his lips and handed it out to Eugene, offering.

Eugene's stomach was in knots. He turned away from the other man. "I don't smoke," he replied lamely.

"Oh yeah?" the asset laughed but it was not a happy sound.

Eugene hailed the planet to land, refused to look at the other man, "Why'd you save me? Back on Peleliu-7."

The other man chewed at his frown for a moment then shrugged, "Cause ya different."

Eugene scoffed, "Different from _what_?"

The asset gestured to the galaxy at wide, "Every otha asshole out there tryna kill me, all them Nikto mercs got tired a me fightin' back so they ripped my kriffin' arm off, the otha hunters who'd a kept me all tied up in that shit," he snorted, "Druk, you ain't like _no one_ I ever met, I can _feel_ it."

Eugene gulped. Instead of answering, he focused on landing the ship. The asset's words haunted him. His assertion was far too familiar to Eugene’s own thoughts. He couldn’t explain it but the other man was...he was _different_. That sick, tense feeling in Eugene’s chest didn’t lessen any when the asset sighed and stubbed his stick of spice out on the dash of the K-35.

Once down, Eugene led them out of the landing zone and down into the seedy depths of the city. The asset didn't speak. They passed merchant stalls selling wares from all corners of the galaxy. Some people turned to look at Eugene, taking in his armor and sizing him up. Some looked the asset over. None dared approach. Still, the asset said nothing. Eugene took them to the ex-Imperial's abode. 

A panel next to the door opened and a droid’s scanner arm slid out. Eugene lifted the access pass given to him when he’d accepted the commission. The droid bleeped a confirmation and the doors slid open. Eugene tried not to bristle defensively when the doors parted to reveal two dusty stormtroopers. Eugene saw the asset tense next to him but again he didn't speak. His jaw was clenched, his eyes piercing.

The troopers nodded to Eugene and waved them inside. The asset went first and Eugene followed closely behind. When one of the troopers grabbed the asset, hard, by his bicep, Eugene caught his wrist and twisted his arm away with more force than necessary. The trooper gasped in pain.

"Take it easy," Eugene demanded, no room for argument.

" _You_ take it easy," the trooper bit back but made no move for the asset again. 

When they entered the main room, Eugene's ex-Imperial client was on his feet immediately. He stood from his seat at the table, the only furnishing in the room, and without any hesitation approached the asset. The man was oddly eager. Eugene watched the asset's shoulders tense up even more. From the right, the doctor, blonde hair pulled up tight in a bun and lab uniform squeaky clean, hurried to the ex-Imperial's side. The asset flinched back when she scanned his face with a device, shining streaks of blinding red light across his features.

"Oh yes," the doctor grinned, "Very healthy."

"Your reputation was not unwarranted," the ex-Imperial said and it took a second for Eugene to realize the man was talking to him, "This asset is of the utmost importance to me," as he spoke the asset growled low in the back of his throat. The ex-Imperial circled the desk and opened the container sitting atop it, revealing stacks of Beskar enough to shock the breath from Eugene's lungs, "To the winner go the spoils."

When Eugene stepped forward to retrieve his bounty, the asset cut in front of him. The stormtroopers immediately reached for their weapons.

"Look at my eyes," the asset commanded, "I'm _dyin',_ Mandalorian."

Eugene gulped. The troopers caught up the asset and he didn't fight as they led him away. He only spared Eugene one glance before he was shoved into another room. The doors behind him slid shut then locked with an audible click. Eugene turned back to the ex-Imperial and his case of Beskar. The ingots were unnatural, bearing the seal of the Empire. Stolen, no doubt, from Eugene's own people during the Empire's purge.

"What are your plans for him?" Eugene asked abruptly.

"How uncharacteristic of one with your reputation," the ex-Imperial hissed. Behind him, more stormtroopers entered the room, "You've taken both commission and payment. Is it not the code of your guild that these events are now forgotten?"

Eugene glanced at the number of troopers now surrounding them. His eyes fell to the door the asset had disappeared behind one last time. His words replayed in Eugene's mind. The unspoken plea in his stunning eyes shook Eugene to his core. He reached for the Beskar, took it, and left without looking back.

Sitting with his legs folded under him and his back straight, Eugene watched as the Armorer sorted the ingots of Beskar across the table between them. As he'd entered their sanctum, Eugene hadn't missed the looks of spite from the other Mandalorians. The Armorer's thickly gloved thumb stroked over the treacherous brand of the Empire seared into the sacred metal. Eugene sensed a group approach from behind him, heard their boots and felt their envious mire. The Armorer did not miss a beat.

"This amount of Beskar can be shaped many ways," she said, leaving the choice to Eugene.

He squared his shoulders, "My armor has lost its integrity. I need to begin again."

She looked at the battered state of his chest plate and replied, "Indeed," then proceeded, "I can form a full cuirass. This would be in order for your station."

Eugene was shocked. A full set of Beskar armor was reserved for the elite, those true to the ways of the Mandalore. He swallowed thickly, to hold his emotions at bay.

"That would be a great honor," he felt his voice waver anyway. When the Armorer looked up at him, he knew she'd heard it too. She could always read him like an open book.

"I must warn you," her voice, unlike his, did not break, "It will draw many eyes."

As she spoke, another Mandalorian stomped up to them. He stopped at Eugene's side. Then the other man bent to pick up one of the ingots laid out by the Armorer. He examined it, scoffing into Eugene's face.

"These were crafted in an Imperial smelter," he stated the obvious, "Stolen during the Great Purge. The _reason_ we live hidden down here like _sand rats._ "

He threw the Beskar down onto the table and the Armorer moved it back into place without pause.

"Our secrecy is our survival," the Armorer declared, "Our survival is our strength."

"Our _strength_ was once in our numbers," the man shot back, speaking to the Armorer but looking at Eugene, "Now we're forced to live in the shadows, leave here one at a time, by the _Empire_ ," he gestured to Eugene, "with who this _coward_ shares tables."

Eugene felt hot fury burn through his veins. He despised the Empire. For what they did to the galaxy, to Mandalore and its people, to his family, to _him_. Working with that ex-Imperial and his pet stormtroopers made Eugene sick. He thought about the asset, the raw fear and sickening resignation in his eyes. How Eugene had been the one to hand that man over to a grueling death at the hands of his own enemies. 

Eugene wasn't hunting for himself, he had to remember. He did it for the greater good. There wasn't a choice to be had when he knew the Tribe came first. Always. It was one of the Six Actions all Mandalorians lived by. When the man next to him got no visible reaction from him, he snarled at Eugene. Suddenly a hand was tugging at the bottom of Eugene's helmet. Eugene snapped.

He shot to his feet, wrestling out of the other man's grip. Eugene shoved the bigger Mandalorian back with enough force to make him stumble. When he drew a vibroblade from his belt, Eugene pulled one of his own up from his boot. They clashed, Eugene swiping at the other man's chest plate. When his blade came down, Eugene caught his wrist. When he brought his blade up, the other man grabbed his arm as well. Both of them were panting, furious, vibrating blades inches from each other's faces. The Armorer stood.

"The Empire is no more. The Beskar has been returned," she announced, "When one chooses to walk the path of a Mandalorian you are both hunter and pray. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?" as she spoke, both Eugene and the other Mandalorian waited, "Have you ever removed your helmet in front of another?"

Eugene knew she was talking to him, "No."

"Has it ever been removed by others?"

"Never," Eugene answered immediately.

When she answered, she spoke with clarity, certainty, "This is the way."

"This is the way," the others repeated.

The man across from Eugene relaxed, brought his blade down, spoke softly, "This is the way."

They backed apart from each other. Eugene waited for him to sheath his blade before doing the same. The Armorer gestured to the floor in front of the table, where Eugene had been sitting before. As she sank back down into her seat, Eugene approached her once again.

"What caused this damage?" she asked, pointing to his chest plate.

"A mudhorn," Eugene lowered himself down to the floor, "But I can't accept it as my signot. It wasn't a noble kill," he thought about the man with one arm who had saved his life, "I was helped by an enemy."

The Armorer seemed surprised, "Why would an enemy help you in battle?"

Eugene stared at the stacks of Beskar laid out before him. His spoils. 

"He was different."

The Armorer paused, "Very well. Since you forgo a signot, I will use the excess to forge whistling birds instead."

Eugene nodded, "Save some for the foundlings too."

"As it should always be," she agreed then gathered the Beskar for his armor, looked at him once more, told him, "Our foundlings are our future. This is the way."

Behind the other Mandalorians repeated her words back to her. Eugene waited though. He knew the Armorer had been talking to him, directly. _Her_ foundling. He stared ahead and when their eyes met, Eugene finally responded.

"This is the way."

Eugene’s new suit of Beskar armor fit him perfectly. It wasn’t as heavy as his previous armor had been. He could move in it more easily. It was a shiny, untarnished dark gray. Perfectly smooth and seamlessly crafted. Perhaps, even, the Armorer’s best work yet.

Eugene felt awful in it.

As he entered the cantina to meet with Sid, all eyes turned to him. Eugene held his shoulders steady and his head high. No one could see that under his Beskar helmet, Eugene’s amber eyes were giving away how tumultuous he felt. When he was alone, his reflection seemed almost foreign, all pale skin instead of hard armor, except for his eyes. They stared back. Eugene could always see every doubt he’d ever had in his own gaze. Fortunately, no one would ever see them but him. Only he would know that wearing this shiny new armor felt like a betrayal to everything he believed in, that every time someone looked at him Eugene was sure they’d see how guilty he was. He’d let an innocent man die and wore the reward like a trophy.

“Mando!” Sid greeted him, probably the only person in the whole bar who was actually glad to see him, “Lookin’ good,” he said as Eugene approached his table, then he seemed to notice that everyone was side-eyeing Eugene. Sid waved a hand, “Don’t mind them. I mean, they _hate_ you but it’s cause you’re a _legend_.”

Eugene set his rifle down on the table then slid into the booth, “Yeah and how many of them did you give tracking fobs to?”

Sid winced, “Honestly? They all had commissions. But _you’re_ the one that brought him in. They’re all just jealous.”

Eugene scowled even though Sid couldn’t see it, “I want my next job.”

“What for?” Sid scoffed, “You’re rich now. Krak, _I’m_ rich now. Why not take a break?” Sid’s mouth parted into a grin, “Hey, I’ll take you to the Twi’lek healing baths. How's that sound, huh?”

Eugene could think of nothing he wanted less at the moment. “I want my next job,” he reiterated, tone going cold.

Sid’s youthful features sank into a frown. He looked Eugene over searchingly. Eugene liked Sid. They were close in age and had both achieved much in such short amounts of time. If Eugene had to choose someone to spend time with outside of the Tribe, Sid would top that list. Right now, though, Eugene wanted Sid to shut up and give him another gig. He needed something to distract himself.

“Sure, fine,” Sid sighed eventually, “Hunters like you gotta stay busy, I guess,” then he fished four tacking fobs out of his jacket and set them on the table between them, “Take your pick, friend.”

Eugene didn’t look any of them over, just grabbed the first one at random. He didn’t care what the job was, he just wanted to get _away_ from Pavuvu and its lava flats and _ex_ -Imperial underground. Sid smirked.

“That’s a good one. Some nobleman’s son,” he explained even though Eugene didn’t care, “Far away though.”

“The farther the better,” Eugene tucked the fob into his armor and stood. When he reached for his rifle, he hesitated. Eugene couldn’t look at his friend, “What do you think they’re doing to him?”

Sid responded with genuine confusion, “Who?”

“The one-armed man, the asset,” Eugene looked at Sid and was surprised to see Sid watching him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I didn’t ask,” he answered, disquiet, “It’s against code regulations, you know that.”

“They’re _Empire_ ,” Eugene hissed, “What are they even doing here?”

“The Empire is gone, Mando,” Sid sighed, “All that’s left are mercenaries and warlords. If you think they’re a real threat you could always report them to the New Republic-”

“What a _joke_ ,” Eugene snatched up his rifle and turned away.

“Mando,” Sid said to his back, “Just...Take care of yourself out there.”

Eugene didn’t respond, didn’t even glance at his friend, before he stalked out of the cantina. The walk to his ship did nothing to clear Eugene’s mind. That simmering anger that he’d been trying to ignore all day finally settled into his chest. Eugene’s heart was racing, it felt like his lungs had seized. Everything inside his ribcage ached with guilt and rage and dread. He stormed into the K-35, dropped into the pilot’s seat, started the ship’s engine.

Even though Eugene hunted down bounties, even though he was not some kind-hearted hero, he was not a murderer. The asset had saved his life. More than once. Eugene’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Through his helmet, he smelled the lingering scent of spice in the cockpit. When he glanced at the co-pilot’s seat, Eugene saw the remains of the asset’s spice stick sitting half burned on the console. 

Eugene was a Mandalorian, a hunter hunted. He followed the Six Actions with the same dedication as breathing. Yet, he stared at the tracking fob in his palm, thought about how taking this job would protect the Tribe, and had never felt less deserving of the title. 

Eugene felt like an ancient Mandalorian. The foundlings were told stories of such Mandalorians to learn from their mistakes. Back then, they were conquerors, warriors waging war on war itself. Eugene thought about the old god Kad Ha'rangir, the deity who stood against the idle and battled for change. Eugene could not sit idly by and let an innocent man die by his own actions, not when he could do something. No, Eugene decided as he tossed the tracking fob aside and shut his ship down, he would embody Kad Ha'rangir himself.

Eugene left the K-35 ready for war.


	5. The War pt.2

The sun was setting by the time Eugene returned to the city depths, back to the Imperial’s shady dwelling. It had been hours since he’d delivered the asset early that morning and Eugene prayed he was still alive. He spotted the front entrance and set about checking the perimeter. When he advanced along the side of the building, Eugene spotted a trash collection crate and froze.

Laying on top of the broken parts and rotten food waste was a shirt. It was clean, with no tears or smudges of dirt. It was also _his_. The green shirt was unmistakably the one the asset had been wearing this morning. Eugene saw red but sucked in as steadying a breath as he could manage. He didn’t need to be angry right now, he needed to focus.

Once Eugene had cased the building’s exterior, he knew he needed to get a beat on what was happening inside. He needed to know if the other man was still alive. Climbing a neighboring abode, Eugene laid down on his stomach to look down the length of his rifle. With his activated heat vision, he spotted two red forms through the walls. He adjusted the scope mechanics on his rifle until he could hear in his helmet what the two were talking about. Immediately he recognized the Imperial and the doctor's voices.

"-don't care," the Imperial said, garbled in static but clear enough, "Extract the necessary materials and be done with him."

"-quickly--can," the doctor's response was even harder to hear clearly, "We've been ordered to bring him back alive." That meant the asset wasn't dead yet.

"Finish your--quickly," the Imperial said shortly, "I can no longer guarantee your safety."

Eugene knew then he'd have to hurry. He wasn't sure how much time the asset had left.

Knocking on the front door, Eugene waited for the droid scanner. Once it was out, he snatched it by the end and snapped the long pole of its arm in half. It crackled and an alarm immediately sounded from inside. Eugene stalked away from his distraction. He stopped near the trash bin, stuck a grenade on the wall, and ducked around the corner. The explosion provided him a new entrance to the building.

Eugene slunk into the dust and the dark. Ducking behind the crates scattered through the halls, he waited. In seconds, two troopers were walking by him to investigate the explosion. Eugene shot them both in the back with his blaster. When another trooper entered, Eugene disarmed him swiftly, knocked him off his feet, and shot him through the armor over his chest.

Eugene came to a familiar door and didn't pause before blasting the lock. Immediately the doors flew open. A rip of bright red blaster fire hit him square in the chest. It ricocheted off just as fast. Eugene didn't even feel it under his new armor. He shot that stormtrooper in the chest as well. When he turned, Eugene spotted the doctor. She was standing in front of the asset.

The other man was unconscious. Laying on his back on some kind of examination bed, the asset looked calm. His shirt was gone but otherwise he looked unharmed. Durasteel barriers over him were locking him in place.

"Please," the doctor said, her hand raised in an attempt to calm Eugene. He realized then the med droid over her shoulder was moving toward the asset. Eugene raised his blaster and her eyes widened, "Please, no, no, no--"

She was cut off when Eugene shot the droid above her and she ducked instinctively. Eugene rushed her while she was distracted, grabbed her arm, and shoved her away from the asset. She stumbled, fell back into some crates.

She spoke again, "Please don't hurt him!"

Eugene looked down at the other man, locked in the medical bed.

"What did you do to him?" Eugene barked and the doctor hesitated, " _What did you do to him_?"

"Protected him," she stood, gulped, stared at Eugene's weapon but didn't cower, "If it wasn't for me, he'd be dead already."

Then she moved toward him, slowly. She kept her eyes on Eugene as she reached toward the examination bed. Two buttons later and the metal over the asset's chest retracted, freeing him. The doctor lifted her hands and stepped away.

"Get him out of here," she said, sounding more desperate than she had before, " _Please_."

Eugene wasn't really strong enough to be carrying another grown man around so much but he did it anyway. The doctor helped him drape the unconscious man over his shoulder and Eugene wrapped an arm securely around his legs to hold him steady. Then he stomped out of the room and left the doctor behind, still alive against his better judgement. Eugene knew getting out was going to be the hard part. He managed to take out two stormtroopers who charged him in a hallway, one with his own stun stick and another with the flamethrower on his wrist. As he screamed, the asset over Eugene's shoulder groaned.

Eugene only had to make it through one more room before they were free so of course he got surrounded. The troopers paused when he yelled for them to wait. They knew, surely, how valuable the asset Eugene had in his hold was to their boss. He told them he was going to set the other man down and they waited because troopers were as stupid as they were loyal. Carefully, Eugene pulled the other man down off his back and laid him down on the ground and the asset grumbled, eyelids fluttering.

Eugene ducked down over him and released the whistling birds from his bracers. The small metal weapons flew out from him with a shrill chime. Each one targeted a trooper and tore through him without mercy. In a blink, all five troopers were dead on the floor. Below Eugene, the asset let out a low groan as his eyes opened. When Eugene looked into them, blue warmed into green in the orange emergency light and sweetened with sleepy confusion, his heart fluttered in his chest.

"Mm, wha's goin' on?" the asset mumbled, then his gaze fluttered down Eugene's front, "Nice digs."

Eugene got an arm under his shoulders and helped sit him up, "Come on, we need to keep moving."

He staggered to his feet, leaning into Eugene's side, "Movin' _where_?"

"Anywhere but here," Eugene dragged the asset away from the dead stormtroopers and toward the exit.

"You bustin' me out?" the asset giggled, obviously out of it from whatever drugs were still in his system, "Knew you was different, mista big hero man."

Eugene didn't feel like a hero, he felt like a dar’manda--a _traitor_.

Eugene had been hoping that they would make it out of the city before the other bounty hunters caught on. If what Sid had told him was true, then every hunter in the city would be alerted to the asset’s new status soon enough. Soon enough came much too quickly. Eugene and the asset had almost made it to the landing zone, and his ship, when Sid blocked their path. As he stepped out from the shadows, so too did a myriad of bounty hunters. Too many for Eugene to take on by himself, let alone with the asset hanging off of him. The combined beeping from all their tracking fobs was an annoying, echoing song in the dark.

“Step aside,” Eugene said directly to Sid, ignoring the others, “I’m going to my ship.”

Sid’s features hardened, “I can’t let you do that. Hand over the bounty first, then we’ll talk.”

“He’s coming with me,” Eugene tightened his hold on the other man, refusing to back down.

Sid licked his lips quickly, a giveaway that he was nervous. Eugene knew him better than to think that meant Sid was at any kind of disadvantage. He tilted his head, motioning to Eugene’s right. There was a droid run hovercraft with a flatbed stacked with various crates and goods.

“Put him on the speeder,” Sid said like it was a suggestion not a command, “If you really care about him, listen to me. He’s in no shape to be in a fire fight, if it comes to that.”

Eugene stepped closer to the vehicle. It was as good a way to get out of this mess as any. He spun, dropped two bounty hunters with one shot, and dove into the cover of the speeder all in the same motion. The blaster fire rained down instantly. Eugene shoved the asset down and over, so they were both lying flat. Then he aimed his blaster at the droid operating the vehicle.

"Drive," he demanded and when the droid hesitated, yelled, " _Drive!_ "

They sped down the road while Eugene fired at as many hunters as he could over the side of the craft. They’d almost made it to the shipyard when the droid's head exploded in a burst of blaster fire and they lurched to a stop. Eugene cursed under his breath, a million thoughts racing through his head. When the asset smacked his shoulder to get his attention, Eugene nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Blaster!" the asset shouted at him, shook his hand in Eugene's face, "Gimme ya blaster, druk for brains!"

Eugene scoffed, fired over the side of the speeder again, "I'm _using_ it!"

"Got a rifle, don't ya?" the asset pushed, "This rate we both gon die. Gimme a gun!"

"Fine!" Eugene shoved his blaster into the asset's hand and swung his rifle up.

Together, they fired on the enemies who had been pressing their advantage. The asset's shots hit, one, two, three, perfect center mass and downed his targets. Eugene lined up his amban rifle, took a shot of his own, and turned another man into dust. Then another. Another. Until the hunters were scrambling for cover.

"That's some gun you got there," Sid called out from wherever he was hunkered down.

"Let us go," Eugene shouted back, "and you won't get to know it better."

"It's too late for that," Sid sounded genuinely regretful at least, "You had your chance, Mando."

Eugene heard the asset's startled yelp behind him. He spun just in time to see a bounty hunter wrangle the other man into a chokehold, trying to drag him over the edge of the speeder. There was a bloody wound on the asset's forehead. Eugene shoved the end of his rifle into the hunter, shocking him and sending him flying back. The asset teetered forward and Eugene caught him just before blaster fire hailed down again. He rolled so his body was atop the other man, shielding him from danger. The asset curled in, ducking into the cover of Eugene's hold, and his bloodied forehead made glancing contact with Eugene's helmet.

Eugene froze. His heart felt like it was choking him up into his throat. Touching foreheads was a meaningful action to Mandalorians, a comfort shared between families, between _lovers_. Eugene _knew_ the other man didn't realize that tucking himself closer, pressing his forehead into the dome of Eugene's helmet once more, was as intimate an act as kissing. It was something Eugene had never shared with another person. Eugene would feel guilty later but as the bounty hunters closed in on them, he leaned further into the touch instead of pulling away.

The asset let out a shaky breath against Eugene's armor, "I'm sorry."

Eugene hated that. The Empire should feel sorry, not this man. Not now. Eugene cupped the back of the other man's head. "Don't be," he finally answered, "I'm not."

They both breathed against each other, held each other, and knew they were going to die.

Suddenly a barrage of blaster fire came from above. Eugene and the asset were not the targets, instead it pushed the hunters back. Eugene sat up just in time to see his fellow Mandalorians descend from the sky, a group of commandos in jetpacks. Reinforcements. He recognized the heavy infantry Mandalorian, carrying a blaster cannon, as the one who'd confronted Eugene over the Beskar before. The man landed beside him and the asset as his fellow Mandalorians pushed the bounty hunters back.

"You need to get out of here," his voice offered no room for argument, "We'll hold them off."

Eugene hesitated, "We'll have to relocate the sanctum."

The man mowed down more hunters, clearing a path. When he turned to Eugene again, he nodded, "This is the way."

Eugene nodded in return, "This is the way."

He scrambled off the speeder and the asset followed behind him. They made for the K-35 and Eugene didn't join his brethren in the fight behind them with effort. An explosion shook the ground enough to make Eugene stumble. The man next to him caught Eugene and held him steady on his feet as they boarded his ship. They were headed for the cockpit when a voice behind stopped them both in their tracks.

"Wait," Sid ordered and Eugene knew by his tone alone he had a gun trained on them. 

Eugene turned first and when he did, the man next to him followed his lead. Sid was standing in the cargo bay, in front of the open door, blaster raised. While his weapon was pointed at the other man, his eyes were on Eugene. They were hard but full of understanding too.

"When'd you get so tenderhearted, huh?" Sid asked tightly, didn't wait for a reply, "And for this moof milking waste of space?" Sid shook his blaster pistol at the other man and he sucked in an uneasy breath, "Mando, you're throwing away everything to, what, stick it to the kriffin' _Empire_? They're gone, you gotta let whatever grudge your holding onto go."

"You're a smart man, Sid," Eugene stepped in front of the line of fire, "So listen to me when I tell you that this? This _ex-_ Imperial and his troopers held up in your city, expecting you to come at their beck and call? This ain't right. Leaving someone to their mercies ain't right either," Eugene lifted a hand, slowly lowered Sid's blaster, and the other man let him, "He's a good man, Sid, and so are you. We leave him to be murdered then what's that make us, huh? We'd be no better than those Imp bastards, way I see it."

Sid nodded reluctantly, "The only good man here is you, Mando. You're too good to see what a mistake this is," he sighed and holstered his weapon, "No, you'll be alright," he didn't sound too sure but backed off anyway, "Now get the fuck outta here before I change my mind."

Eugene extended a hand and Sid shook it, "Thank you."

Once Sid was off the ship, Eugene closed the doors behind him. He headed to the cockpit, wasted no time getting into the pilot's seat, and started the ship. The other man fell into the seat next to him and let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. Eugene glanced his way. The other was covered head to toe in dust and sweat, shirtless again, and bleeding all down his face. But he was alive. 

A weight lifted off Eugene's shoulders as that sickening, bloodthirsty anger in his veins finally faded. Many emotions took its place but mostly Eugene felt relieved. A laugh left him as well, despite himself, as he retracted all the landing gear. Lifting off, he steered the ship to the sky. Then they blasted out of the atmosphere and into the vast darkness of space, leaving the war on Pavuvu behind.


	6. The Rebel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

* * *

"Snafu," the man said out of the blue.

Eugene paused. He was sitting wedged between the other man's legs while he examined the wound on his head. At the strange declaration, Eugene leaned back to look at the other man's face, "What now?"

He smiled, then bit at his bottom lip like he was trying to hold the expression at bay, "Never introduced myself, before."

"Your name is _Snafu_?" Eugene asked, doubtful.

"Your name Mando?" the man huffed back, "Snafu's what people call me. Figured you'd like it better'n tryna think of sumthin’ yourself."

"Snafu," Eugene repeated, smirked even though the other man couldn't see it, "I like it. It suits you."

Snafu rolled his eyes, "Yeah-huh, just don't wear it out."

"You should sleep," Eugene said as he stood, "Your head looks good but rest won't hurt any."

Snafu grunted an affirmative and stood as well. When he stretched his arm over his head, his durasteel shoulder turned to Eugene. For the first time Eugene got a good look at the unnatural and abrupt end to the man's joint. All the fractured metal and frayed wires from Peleliu-7 were nowhere in sight and Ack-Ack's handiwork was covered as well. A sheet of fine grade durasteel had been placed over the exposed joint, clearly not scrap quality. His metal shoulder rounded down and followed into the line of his chest with a certain kind of grace. Snafu wore the abnormality with an ease that made it easy to forget about entirely. Eugene lifted a hand, reaching for the smooth durasteel slope where a shoulder would turn to a bicep, but didn't touch.

"What happened?" Eugene blurted before he thought it through.

"Hm?" Snafu glanced back at him, followed Eugene's attention down to his missing arm, "Oh, it's nice, right? That docta lady fixed me right up. That's high grade Imperial steel right there."

"Looks good," Eugene said and meant it, making himself feel embarrassed by his own awkward sincerity, "Now _rest._ I'm going to find a planet where no one will even think to look for us."

Snafu hesitated, his intense eyes lingering on Eugene's helmet, "Could just drop me off somewhere, ya know."

"Is that-?" Eugene stammered, "Do you have somewhere you want to go?"

"No. I ain't got nothin' or no one out there waitin' for me," his gaze darkened into a glare, "but I ain't gonna be your burden to bear just cause ya too _tendahearted_ ," Snafu said firmly, "I appreciate you savin' my ass back there. Them Imps woulda carved me up if you hadn't come burstin' in like a damn hero and got me out. But I been takin' care of myself my whole damn life. I don't need no pity and I don't want no damn _bodyguard_."

Eugene blinked in surprise. That was probably the most Snafu had said to him in the entire time they'd known each other. His voice was cutting, somehow, even syrupy as it was. Eugene appreciated his honesty even if he tensed defensively anyway.

"I don't _want_ to be your damn bodyguard," Eugene sniped back, "I was _hoping_ we could be friends. I know you don't need me to protect you. Shab, if it wasn't for you I'd've died back on Peleliu-7. The guild's after both of us, it would be safer to stay together but if you don't want to I ain't going to force you."

Snafu waited a beat, considering. He licked his bottom lip quickly and Eugene watched, unable to look at anything else. The damn stars around him could be exploding and Eugene still wouldn't be able to look away from the other man. 

"Friends, huh?" Snafu nodded, once, "I can do that," his lips quirked up. His posture relaxed as Snafu took a step closer to Eugene. Eugene's breath hitched when Snafu reached for his helmet, fingers tracing along the vision plate, "Say I bet ya real cute unda this thing."

Eugene snatched his wrist, not hard enough to stop his searching touch but Snafu did anyway. "I'm a Mandalorian. I don't take my helmet off around people," he explained quickly, "It's part of my religion."

"Hm, whateva you say," Snafu stepped out of Eugene's grasp and ducked around Eugene to move toward his bunk, "I got a good imagination anyhow. Say, you ain't a Hutt under there are ya?"

Eugene snorted over a laugh, "No. No I'm not."

"Too bad," Snafu winked back at him. 

Eugene settled in the cockpit while Snafu made himself comfortable in Eugene's bed. It was an odd thing. Eugene had spent most of his time outside the Tribe's sanctuary alone. After being raised with the other foundlings, it was a relief to finally have his own space. He'd gone out of his way to keep others at a distance and built a level of self reliance enviable by any other Mandalorian. Yet, Snafu coming into his life, taking up his space, sleeping in his bed, wearing his _clothes_ , didn't raise Eugene's hackles like he thought it would. In fact, it was nice to look out across the vast galaxy before him and know he wasn't sailing through it alone.

Finding an uncharted planet with minimal technology wasn't as hard as Eugene was expecting. Eugene knew exactly what to look for: meager populations, no cities, scrap yards, or mines, no communication channels. The kind of planet that was habitable but mostly uninhabited. Where one could land their ship without hailing requests first. Eugene charted course to one such planet once he made sure it fit all the criteria of the perfect hideaway. Melbourne was a beautiful albeit wet planet that Eugene knew no one would look for them on.

As he dropped them out of hyperspace, Eugene was startled by Snafu coming up behind his seat. The other man's arm slinked around Eugene's chest and Snafu's head dropped on top of his helmet. Eugene's face warmed as he sat still, unsure what to do. Snafu let out a pitiable groan into Eugene's armor.

"Can't sleep," he grumbled, "This that planet where no one will even think t'look for us you were goin' on about?"

"Yes," Eugene answered curtly. When Snafu sighed into the cloak cinched around Eugene's throat and went to pull away, Eugene caught his arm. He briefly traced his thumb over the bony line of the other man's wrist, wishing he didn't have his gloves on so he could feel Snafu's skin. That thought made Eugene flustered in a way nothing really had before, "It'll be a good place to lay low for a couple months."

"Mm," Snafu hummed an agreement and sank back over Eugene, "I'm just glad it ain't a kriffin' desert."

Eugene landed the K-35 deep enough into the woods that no one was likely to stumble across it yet within walking distance of a small gathering of people marked by his scans of the planet. Before they dove headfirst into any long term plans, Eugene knew they needed to scope the place out some, get a feel for it. As the Armorer told him before, a Mandalorian's strength was in their ability to survive and Eugene liked to think that was one skill he'd damn near mastered. The fact that he was still alive was testament enough to that.

"You should stay here," Eugene said to Snafu as he opened the cargo bay doors.

Snafu snorted dismissively, pulling on Eugene's off-white shirt he'd worn on Peleliu-7 that Eugene had only _just_ managed to scrub the mud stains out of. A breeze carried in from the planet outside. While it was sunny and clearly midday on Melbourne, the air was chilly and wet. Snafu's skin under the sleeveless blouse prickled in the coolness as he approached Eugene's side. Clearly he was not intending to heed Eugene's advice. With a sigh, Eugene wrangled his cloak off over his helmet and shoved it into Snafu's chest.

"Alright, come on," he moved down the ramp to the planet's surface without waiting for the other man.

"That part of your religion too?" Snafu let the cloak wrap around his throat and lay across his chest, shielding his missing arm.

Eugene slowed his gait so Snafu could catch up to him, "Is what part of my religion?"

"Y'know," Snafu shrugged, "Sharin' your clothes n shit with me. That some kinda Mandalorian code? Helpin' out the _needy_?"

" _No_ ," Eugene hadn't really stopped to think about it, "Just didn't want you to be cold, I guess."

Snafu grinned, a full display of nice white teeth. The wound on his forehead had turned into a nasty purple and green bruise that had left him with a black eye. The jagged line of scabbing that disappeared into his hairline probably wouldn't scar but it wasn't pretty. Again, Eugene found himself thinking that the other man could be a real knockout if he wasn't so banged up all the time.

"I hate the cold," Snafu confessed, "So guess I oughta say thanks or sumthin'."

"Careful now," Eugene warned, "Wouldn't want you to pull something bending over backward trying to be nice."

Snafu chuckled, "I'm plenty nice! Ya just set the bar too damn high s'all."

"Well, for that I apologize," Eugene laughed under his helmet, "Remind me to be more of an asshole then."

The trees eventually gave way to a flat clearing. Situated among all the green grass were a series of wooden structures. Some were cones of sticks, others were shacks made of slabs of wood. At the center was an open air cantina. It wasn't exactly brimming with people but it was busy enough. Outside there were a couple stands selling various fried meats and breads. Eugene didn't pay them any mind as he entered the main building. A bar along the right side was serving various drinks and meals to the weary travelers scattered about the booths and tables. Eugene scoped out the patrons, most were farmers or standard civilians based on their clothes and lack of weapons. 

One man stood out amongst the crowd. He was sitting alone in the corner of a booth, a location with a good vantage of the entire cantina Eugene noted. His body armor laid across his collar, attached to shoulder pauldrons, and hung down his chest. It was the tattoo circling his bicep Eugene noticed the most. It was military ink. He had a blaster on his thigh and a dark look in his eyes. Eugene didn't pause as he passed the suspicious man, instead he led Snafu to a table and the two of them sat easily. Snafu seemed to have clued in that something was wrong by the intense look he sent Eugene but he didn't bring it up. A waitress approached and Snafu's expression turned into a charming smile.

"Welcome travelers," she said, wiping her hands on her apron, "What can I get you?"

"Got anythin' good to drink?" Snafu asked, voice all sweet while he acted cute enough to make Eugene roll his eyes under his helm.

Her face brightened, "You're in luck! I just made a fresh batch of hot tea."

"Well if you made it, then it's gotta be good," Snafu's smile widened when she blushed, "I'll take a mug if ya'd be so kind. What bout you, boo? Ya want some tea?"

It took Eugene a second to realize Snafu was talking to _him._ He let out an annoyed huff. "No, I'm fine," Eugene stopped the waitress before she could leave, nodding his head toward the suspicious man, "That man over there. When did he arrive?"

She glanced back at the man's table and shrugged, "I guess I've seen him here for the last week or so."

"What's his business here?" Eugene pressed.

"Business?" she chuckled dismissively, "There's not much business on Melbourne, so I wouldn't know," Eugene almost sighed, tossing a few credits to the woman to keep her talking, "Well, thank you. All I can say is there's only two kinds of work round here, log running and krill farming, and he doesn't seem much interested in either," she glanced at Snafu again, smiled, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'll get you that tea as soon as possible. And I'll even throw in a flagon of spotchka for good measure." 

Eugene glared at her back as she walked away and next to him, Snafu chuffed out a little laugh. When Eugene's attention shifted back to the man in the corner booth, he was no longer there. Eugene cursed under his breath. As he stood, he turned to Snafu and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay here," he demanded, "I mean it this time. Stay put, Snaf."

Snafu's eyes narrowed at him but he nodded. Eugene figured that was the best he was going to get with the other man. He ducked out of the side entrance and switched his visor to detect heat. There were a clear set of footprints leaving the cantina so Eugene drew his blaster pistol and followed them cautiously. Turning down a corner between two wooden buildings, Eugene stopped when the tracks ended abruptly. Quickly, he scanned his surroundings. The man couldn't have gotten far.

Suddenly, a pair of boots came down on his back sending Eugene face first into the dirt. He rolled in time to watch the man swing down from the laundry support above and land where Eugene had fallen. Eugene shot back to his feet but the other man followed, using his forward momentum to slam his fist into Eugene's helmet and send him back into the building behind. The man advanced, reeling back to punch Eugene again but Eugene ducked out of the way, landing his own blow to the man's side. When the man bent to catch his breath, he grabbed Eugene by his shoulders and spun, throwing him into the other building across from them. He tried to kick Eugene but Eugene dodged, punching him in the face. He retaliated quickly with a powerful blow to the side of Eugene's head that sent him helmet first to the ground again. When Eugene landed, he released a wall of flame from his bracer. The man stomped on his wrist, disengaging the fire. 

Immediately, Eugene pulled his leg out from under him and he dropped. They wrestled in the dirt, landed blows back and forth, until they ended up laying head to head, Eugene on his back and the other man on his front. They both drew their blasters at the same time. Panting, they aimed their weapons at each other's heads just as a comically loud slurp interrupted them. They both glanced to the side. Snafu was leaning against one of the buildings, watching them with a bemused expression on his face.

"Ya done?" he chided, "Think we can have us a chat now? Or d'you two wanna roll round in the dirt some more? Maybe take ya dicks out, compare sizes?"

Eugene sighed, tilted his head back to look at the man laying across from him. "Want some tea?" he offered lamely.

The man's name was Romus Burgin, ex-shock trooper of the Rebel Army, but he went by Burgie. Snafu was the one who explained that Eugene and him were on the run from the Bondsmen Guild not working _with_ the guild. Burgie smiled good-naturedly at the mix up.

"I thought you were guild for sure, had a fob on me. That's why I came at you so hard," he explained.

"Yeah," Eugene replied easy enough, "That's what I figured."

"Sorry to hear about your situation and all," Burgie took a drink of tea, winced, and set it back down, "But one of us is going to have to move on. And I was here first."

Eugene sighed, "Yeah, alright. We'll be out of your hair come morning."

"I'm much obliged gentlemen," Burgie patted Eugene on the back as he stood, "As you were." Then he ducked back into the bustling crowd of the cantina.

"Damn," Eugene grumbled and Snafu gave him a questioning glance, "I'm really gonna miss the spotchka." Snafu snorted a laugh into his tea.


	7. The Village

By the time they made it back to the K-35 it was dark and Snafu was looking a little worse for wear. He was walking a bit unsteady and kept pushing the palm of his hand into his eye socket. Eugene knew the man was sore and tired, that he hadn't been able to sleep in a while. When they returned to the ship, Eugene wasted no time opening the doors.

"I'm going to check the landing gear," Eugene explained as Snafu climbed into the ship, "Feel free to sleep if you need to."

Snafu hummed an acknowledgment but sat in the open door anyway. He leaned against the side of the bay's doorway and quietly watched Eugene work. Only a few sockets in the ship's underbelly needed adjustment but it took longer than Eugene was expecting. While he worked, he was sure Snafu had fallen asleep because he was unusually quiet. Snafu perhaps wasn't much of a talker but he fidgeted and hummed, anything to cause noise to make up for it. Eugene nearly jumped out of his skin when Snafu finally did speak.

"We got company," he said, sitting up straighter.

Eugene turned and spotted an ominous floating light in the woods, approaching them through the dark. He stiffened, not _afraid_ but uneasy, but relaxed when he realized it was a speeder with a lantern hanging on the front. Two figures occupied the craft, two men without any body armor. Not likely a threat, then. Snafu hopped down from his perch to lean against the ship at Eugene's side. Eugene kept working.

One man approached, nervous and cautious, "Um, excuse me?"

Snafu shifted next to Eugene, asked tensely, "Sumthin' we can help ya with?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, glancing at Snafu but focusing on Eugene, "Raiders."

His companion quickly chirped up, "We have money."

"So," Eugene didn't look at them, "You think I'm some kind of mercenary?"

"You are a Mandalorian, right?" the first man asked, "Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor. That _is_ Mandalorian armor, isn't it?"

"It is."

"See?" the man turned to his friend briefly to glare before turning back to Eugene, "I told him. Sir, I've read a lot about your people, uh, Tribe. If half of what I read is true-"

"We have money," his friend cut in. The two of them stank of desperation.

Snafu faced them while Eugene went back to fixing the ship, "How much?"

"Everything we have," the first man answered, "Our whole harvest was stolen."

"We're krill farmers, in the middle of nowhere," his friend continued, "We brew spotchka. Our-our whole village pitched in."

Eugene finally gave them his attention and saw the measly bag of credits the farmers were offering, "It's not enough." That much money would barely cover a few meals at the cantina, let alone the cost to hunt down a whole band of raiders.

"Are-are you sure?" the farmer pleaded, "You don't even know what the job is."

Eugene was getting frustrated, "I know it's not enough."

To his surprise, Snafu elbowed Eugene in his side, hard. The other man was scowling at him fiercely. 

"This is _everything_ we have," the farmer continued, "We can give you more after our next harvest."

"That ain't necessary," Snafu said, staring at Eugene like he was waiting for him to speak.

Eugene's shoulders slumped. He wasn't in the habit of taking jobs in the name of charity. Then again, he didn't know where the Tribe was, had no means to send them his earnings like he usually would. They would need credits eventually but Eugene wasn't desperate for them now. Not like these poor people were desperate for help, anyway.

"Ya live out in the middle of nowhere, huh?" Snafu asked and they nodded, "Got lodgin'?"

The farmers perked up, "Yeah, absolutely."

Eugene looked at Snafu and the other man was watching him, waiting. He made a _well?_ gesture with his arm and Eugene caved, "House us, and I'll take the job."

Snafu smiled at him and Eugene’s heart raced, making his face flush under his helm. Interrupting the farmers' happy chatting, Eugene cleared his throat and added, "I'm still going to need those credits though."

Burgie agreed to help more quickly than Eugene had been expecting. He supposed the ex-soldier wasn't as content with a boring civilian life as he'd previously let on. Or maybe he was just that desperate for a meager handful of credits. The farmers helped the three of them pile Eugene's supplies onto the speeder's flat bed before they all settled in for the long ride out to the middle of nowhere. Burgie dropped his bag and sat himself down on one side and Eugene and Snafu sat opposite. Snafu hunkered down close enough to press into Eugene's side even though there was plenty of space.

“Snaf, don’t you want to lay on something more comfortable?” Eugene huffed but didn’t exactly shake the other man off, “Like _anywhere_ else?”

Snafu just hummed and shimmied closer. Eugene’s breath left him so he couldn’t even tell Snafu off when he laid his head on Eugene’s chest plate and threw his arm across Eugene’s stomach. Eugene was never more thankful to be wearing a helmet, sure his face was a nasty shade of red. He cleared his throat, finally ready to shoo Snafu away, when Eugene realized the other man looked genuinely relaxed for the first time since Pavuvu. So instead, Eugene sighed and dragged his cloak Snafu was still wearing over Snafu’s bare arm like a blanket. When he looked up, Burgie was watching them with an arched brow and a hint of a smile on his face.

"So," Burgie started and Eugene bristled defensively, "We're basically running off a band of raiders for lunch money then?"

Eugene relaxed. "They're housing us in the middle of nowhere," he explained, "Seems like a pretty square deal for people in our position. I mean, worst case scenario we get to tune up our blasters. Best case, we're a deterrent," Eugene pulled his arm out from under Snafu and draped it across the edge of the speeder. It made Snafu slump a little closer but also kept his arm from falling asleep, "Sides, I doubt there's anything in these woods an ex-shock trooper can't handle."

Burgie smirked, not _cocky_ but confident. He didn't respond in a way that meant he knew Eugene was right and felt no need to prove it. Eugene respected that. Burgie folded his arms and shifted down so Eugene took that to mean their conversation was over. He waited until Burgie closed his eyes, until Snafu was snoring softly against his chest, before letting himself fall asleep.

Eugene was startled awake by _Burgie_ being startled awake. The soldier's leg jerked, kicking Eugene in the thigh, and he jumped. Snafu groaned into his armor but didn't stir. Burgie blinked his eyes open, scrubbing at his face. Eugene shook himself into awareness. The sun was shining but it still wasn't warm, a nice wind made sure of that. The speeder was pulling up to a stop at a pleasant farmstead. Eugene shook Snafu's shoulder to wake him up as a group of excited farmers approached.

"Snaf," he chided trying to get the man's attention, "You ain't getting out of helping with these crates."

"Fuck that shit," Snafu groaned, muffled into Eugene’s armor, "I haul crates for no man."

Eugene snorted. Then he shoved Snafu off of him and climbed out of the side of the speeder. Burgie followed his lead, slinging his bag over his shoulder. While Eugene greeted their hosts he watched Snafu push himself up into a sitting position, wincing with effort. His hand was shaking when he shoved it into his eye to rub away his sleepiness. Eugene couldn't help but notice, too, that the bruise on Snafu's forehead had started turning into a garish yellow. Eugene wondered if that was why he looked so sickly.

"Welcome, travellers," a tall woman with long, dark hair hanging just past her shoulders greeted them, "My name is Florence. Flo, if you'd like."

"Romus Burgin ma'am," Burgie introduced himself quickly, "That's the Mandalorian and his...and Snafu."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all," Flo smiled but Eugene noticed her eyes lingering on Burgie, "If you follow me, I can show you to your lodgings."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Burgie nodded, polite as he could be. Eugene glanced at Snafu only to see him already smirking at Eugene.

"I hope this is okay," Flo said as she led them through the village. 

The town was nothing more than a few wooden shelters at the center of the krill beds. They were man-made little ponds expanding out from the village center in carefully and deliberately constructed circles. Eugene could tell that even though the village looked a little shabby, there was definitely a lot of history to it. Flo dropped Burgie off at a spare room in her house and brought him and Snafu to a decently sized shack.

She looked sheepish as she apologized, "Sorry that all we have left is the barn."

"This'll do fine," Eugene answered, setting the crate in his arms down.

Snafu snorted behind him, "Better'n _fine_. Looks comfy as can be."

"I don't know about all that," Flo smiled, "but I did stack some extra blankets over here if you need them."

Snafu dropped the bag he was carrying next to Eugene's load, "Oh, you are a _goddess_." 

Flo laughed softly and at that moment Eugene heard the stealthy footsteps of an intruder approaching. He had his back to the doorway and every survival instinct kicked in. Before Eugene knew what he was doing, he was whipping around, pistol drawn and aimed at the intruder. Immediately, Snafu caught his wrist and shoved his arm down toward the floor. It was then Eugene recognized the startled gasp of a child.

"Easy, boo," Snafu chuckled but Eugene didn't miss the tension around his eyes. He turned toward the little girl hiding behind Flo's legs as Eugene put his gun away, "Now who is this lil trouble maker?"

"This is my daughter Winta. She doesn't meet a lot of strangers," Flo smiled and steered her kid out from behind her, "Sweetie, these are the nice men who are going to help protect us from the bad ones."

Winta blinked up at them timidly, "Thank you."

Snafu dropped into a squat so he was eye level with the girl. "Ain't no reason to be scared. I know all that armor _looks_ big and scary, but he's a real softie under there," Snafu smiled when the girl giggled, "Ya momma's right too. Those bad men ain't gon be botherin' you all no more. You believe me?"

She nodded quickly, glancing at Eugene again. Her eyes were no longer afraid when she looked at him.

"Now I know there's gotta be frogs out in them ponds, right?" Snafu continued and she looked back at him, "I useda catch them when I was your age, bet ya real good at it," this time she nodded with determination, "Oh, I'm gonna need ya to prove it, girlie. Ain't no way you can catch more'n me."

"Can too!" she defended, looked up at her mother, "Mom, can we-?"

"After dinner," Flo smiled at Snafu, "We should let you all get settled in first."

"Yes ma'am," Snafu agreed, then grinned at Winta again, "but I'm holdin' you too it."

Winta grinned back, "You're on!"

Once Eugene and Snafu were alone, the two fell into a companionable quiet, unpacking Eugene's belongings and sorting out their shared space. There weren't enough blankets for two separate beds. Eugene didn't get a chance to make a fuss about it before Snafu laid them all out and organized them into one makeshift bed big enough for both of them. It was a good thing Eugene was used to sleeping in his armor, he supposed. Snafu flopped back into the blankets with a groan and even though they weren't done, Eugene didn't try to get Snafu back up.

"So, you can charm women, shoot blasters, lift things with your mind, _and_ you're good with kids," Eugene mused, "Is there anything you _can't_ do?"

Snafu snickered, " _Clap_."

A surprised laugh leapt out of Eugene's throat. Snafu cracked up too. That made Eugene laugh harder. Soon they were both giggling like idiots. Eugene watched as Snafu laughed at his own stupid joke, on his back on their shared bed, and felt the air in his lungs leave him. God, Snafu wasn't just attractive, he was _magnetic_. Eugene felt like he'd known the other man his whole damn life. Them, together, it just clicked. Eugene wasn't sure if he wanted to punch Snafu and tell him to shut up, or kiss that smile off his busted up face. Eugene's stomach swooped, shaken by his own thoughts. Snafu's laughter pattered out along with his.

Eugene cleared his throat, "That wasn't even funny."

"Yeah-huh," Snafu rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes then left his wrist resting across his forehead, still smiling, "You gon get the rest of your shit off the speeder or do ya need me to go out there with ya? Keep all the _scary_ locals away?"

It wasn't until Eugene replied, "Pfft, I don't need your help with the locals," and stomped outside that he realized Snafu had tricked him into doing the rest of the work. Oh well. Eugene thought about how content Snafu looked nestled up in their makeshift bed and couldn't find it in himself to be mad about it.

Eugene joined the others for dinner but didn't eat until after they were done. Flo had welcomed them into her home and they all sat around her table eating her food. Snafu and Winta traded vegetables when Flo wasn't looking, stuck their tongues out at each other, and talked about nonsense that Eugene couldn’t follow. Burgie and Eugene kept up a conversation about weapons but eventually Burgie was sidetracked by Flo. The two of them exchanged heated looks and playful banter and Eugene easily backed off to let them have their moment. He waited until he was alone in the barn after they'd all finished to eat his own dinner.

Eugene set his plate down on the sill of a window before reaching for his helmet. He paused when he heard Snafu laugh outside. The other man was entertaining a crowd of kids by showing them tricks for catching frogs. Eugene lifted his helmet off and carefully set it down next to his plate. The fresh air felt good on his face. Eugene watched Snafu dangle a frog in Winta's face and smiled to himself while he ate. Snafu was especially kind of beautiful when Eugene could see him without looking through his helmet’s visor. So was the lush green village. He could really get used to this place, once the raiders were taken care of. 

Eugene had never really had his own home before. The barn they’d turned into their own little space wasn’t really the _home_ Eugene was picturing. He would rather like something with a kitchen and a fireplace. Eugene surprised himself by deciding that the home in his imagination was just another thing he didn’t really mind sharing with Snafu either. He ate the rest of his dinner watching the clouds in the sky and pointedly not looking at Snafu.


	8. The Walker

Eugene should have known better. Whatever naive thoughts he'd been having about living a quiet farmer's life died the moment he saw the massive tracks in the forest around the village. He could clearly make out the boot prints of the bandits in the mud, maybe twenty or so. Nothing the combined forces of Eugene, Snafu, and Burgie couldn't handle. The other, giant tracks, however, Eugene knew immediately posed a threat much larger than the trio could take on by themselves.

Burgie cursed, crouching next to the print to get a better look, "An AT-ST."

"What's an Imperial walker doing here?" Eugene growled. Next to him, Snafu spit into the tracks.

"I don't know," Burgie finally answered with a sigh, looking up to the path carved by the walker through the trees, "but it's more than I signed up for."

Eugene didn't want to deliver the bad news to the villagers. Burgie and Snafu were standing on either side of him and because he was in the center the other two seemed to be waiting for him to speak. A group of farmers had gathered, all waiting expectantly for the good news Eugene did not have for them. He sighed.

"You can’t stay here."

Immediately the crowd raised an uproar, shouting questions and demanding answers until their voices were nothing but indistinguishable noise. Over the racket, Eugene heard Burgie snort next to him, clearly unimpressed.

“That was smooth,” he chastised.

Eugene scowled at him even though he knew the ex-Rebel couldn’t see his face, “Think you can do any better?”

Burgie shrugged. “Listen,” he started and when no one quieted down he tried again, louder, “Everyone listen up!” after finally gaining the attention Burgie was looking for he tried to explain the situation calmly, “We agreed to fight a group of bandits, not an Imperial walker. I’ve seen those things take out whole squadrons of soldiers, _trained_ soldiers. It isn’t safe for you to stay here. The three of us don’t stand a chance against that thing.”

A man spoke up and Eugene recognized him as the young farmer who’d come to him and Snafu asking for help. “But-but there aren’t just the three of you,” he countered, gesturing at the others around him, “We’ll all fight if we have to!”

Burgie’s voice turned somber but apologetic, “An AT-ST ain’t something civilians can take on. How many of ya’ll can even use a blaster?” only Flo raised her hand and Burgie sighed, “Without training, there’s no way you can beat that thing.”

“So train em,” Snafu finally spoke up, “Them raiders can’t stand up to all of us, not together,” Snafu gestured at the farmers before them, “Not if they all know how to handle themselves. They wanna fight? Then show em how. This is they home. They deserve a fightin’ chance to save it.”

Eugene glanced back at him and was surprised to find the other man’s assuredness inspired him. Snafu’s eyes were clear, his jaw set, his posture straight. He wasn’t suggesting the people in the village fight lightly. It was obvious he believed in what he was saying, and, more importantly, he believed in the people he was saying it about.

“Snaf’s right,” Eugene nodded, “We’ll train you,” he glanced at Burgie to see him hesitate, “We’ll do this together. Prepare defenses, learn the basics. Then,” he turned back to the crowd and they were watching him with rapt attention, “Then we fight.”

Anticipation was an awful feeling. It made Eugene’s breath unsteady, made his heart race, made him _sweat_ even in the cold. He knew he wasn’t the only one wracked with it either. All around him, everyone was holding their breath with _anticipation_. They’d dug in as many defenses as they could, armed the people with handmade spears and all of Eugene’s and Burgie’s spare weapons. All things considered, they were as ready as they were ever going to be. Still, the apprehension that came with waiting hung over them all like a choking fog.

Eugene and Burgie had come up with a plan to take on the AT-ST. They were to draw it’s fire, lure it to them, then disable it. One of the krill ponds had been dug in extra deep, deep enough that when the walker stepped into it the machine’s weak knees would break under the strain. All they had to do was get it into the water. Once that massive machine was down, the rest would follow its lead and _fall_. Hopefully.

“Hey,” Snafu whispered to him as he approached, “Everyone’s in position.”

Eugene nodded. When Snafu nodded back and made to return to his post, Eugene caught his wrist to stop him. Snafu sent him a confused look. Eugene searched the other man’s eyes for doubt and found none whatsoever.

“Why are you doing all this?” he asked, the question had been on Eugene’s mind for a long time, “Why do you care?"

Snafu hesitated. He moved a step closer to Eugene again. Eugene held his arm but didn't stop him as Snafu reached for his helmet. Snafu's fingers caressed the dome of Eugene's helm then settled on the side, above Eugene's ear. He leaned in. Eugene's breath got caught somewhere in his throat, his shoulders tensed, but he refused to move away. Snafu went to lay his forehead over top of Eugene's, right on the front of his helmet. Eugene immediately brought his other hand up to Snafu's chest, holding him back.

"Wait, that's-" Eugene stuttered, "For Mandalorians that means-it's-"

"I know," Snafu smiled and didn't move away. His grin faltered, though, when he spoke again. His voice was barely above a whisper, "Grew up in a place like this. Well, it was a lot warmer but…" he looked away from Eugene's visor, away from his eyes, "The Imps came for us. Ain't one of us were prepared. We'd've fought otherwise," Snafu took in a steady breath and met his eyes again, "They left it and anyone not strong enough to work the mines in _ashes_."

"Snaf..." Eugene didn't know what to say. He felt a cold kind of dread all the way down to his soul, a familiar grief, "I'm sorry."

"Fuck them," Snafu growled, "And fuck these asshole marauders too. I ain't stop the Imps then but these bastards I’m sendin’ straight to they makers. I ain't plannin' on losin'. Are you?"

"No," Eugene was surprised his own voice sounded so steady. The sound of his mother's dying screams echoed in his mind and Eugene grit his teeth, "They can take this place over my cold, dead body, Snaf."

Snafu grinned again and finally pressed his forehead into Eugene's helmet, the gesture had _meaning_ this time. He pecked a kiss over the front of Eugene's helm, right above his mouth, "Then let's fuck em up, boo."

Eugene was too flustered to respond as Snafu darted away, back to his position defending the other civilians. Behind Eugene, Burgie let out a huff of laughter that made Eugene jump. He'd completely forgotten the other man was there. When he spun to face him, Burgie was fighting off a smug smile. He was turned away, pretending that he was watching the treeline.

"What?" Eugene snapped.

"Nothing," Burgie quickly replied then he side-eyed Eugene and let himself grin, "You two are adorable."

"Shut up," Eugene huffed but he was too flustered to be mad.

The two of them became quiet once again as they settled in, waiting for the raiders to come. This time, though, it wasn't anticipation that was making Eugene uneasy. His mind raced as he thought about Snafu. Eugene was very far out of depth here. He thought maybe Snafu was just a tactile person. Or at least touchy feely with _him_ because they were friends. Either way, Eugene found himself reacting to Snafu, to his charms and touches and _smiles_ , in a way that surprised himself. He could confess he found the other man attractive, that he found him both interesting and enjoyable to be around. When Snafu kissed him, even over his helmet, Eugene's heart pounded. He was more afraid of what that meant than the sound of the Imperial walker barreling through the trees ahead of him.

Burgie's voice rang out loud and clear, "Incoming!"

Night was rapidly descending, making it too dark to see clearly but just light enough to hinder night vision. An advantageous time for an ambush but the villagers were no longer unsuspecting. This time, they would be the ones with the element of surprise. Unless the bandits could see in the dark, they'd be vulnerable too. That vulnerability was what would give the villagers their victory. All they had to do was exploit it. Eugene preferred a tactical approach anyway.

The bandits came through the trees first but Eugene ignored them with effort. Snafu and his guerilla villagers were handling the raiders. Eugene waited for the AT-ST to come, forcing himself to breathe and stay focused. Next to him, Burgie tightened his hold on his blaster cannon with such force Eugene could hear the strain of his leather gloves gripping the metal. The earth below shook as the massive mech approached, the kathunk-kathunk of its footsteps reverberated through the cold night air. Burgie sucked in a breath, turned to Eugene, his deep blue eyes were alight with adrenaline.

"Ready?"

Eugene secured his weapon, "As I'll ever be."

Burgie nodded, "Let's get it done," and when Burgie stood, Eugene followed.

Burgie immediately aimed his cannon at the walker and unleashed hell. Quickly, Eugene lifted his own blaster rifle and fired too. As they'd hoped, the AT-ST turned its attention to them, identifying the pair as the largest threat on the field. Eugene refused to focus on the farmers, the villagers, _Snafu_ because he couldn't afford to. Not when the walker's cannons turned on him and Burgie. Once the battle really began, Eugene lost himself in it. The ebb of flow of a fire fight was familiar even if the giant machine blowing massive holes in the ground at his feet was a whole new kind of foe. They'd managed to draw the walker to them, led it right to the edge of the krill bed trap, but there it stopped.

"Come _on_ ," Burgie growled, peering out from cover to watch the AT-ST at the edge of the pond, "Step forward, you fuck."

“I’ll draw it to us,” Eugene decided, passing his rifle to Burgie and he was sure the other man had no idea how significant it was for a Mandalorian like Eugene to do that, even if it wasn’t his amban rifle. When he had come to trust Burgie so thoroughly, Eugene didn’t even know. Eugene needed to be quick on his feet and unhindered, “You’ll know when to move.”

Burgie watched him for a second but nodded, trusting Eugene too, “Good luck.”

Eugene hated that; he hated luck, for all the good it never did him. This time though, he really felt like he could use it. So instead of shrugging the other man off, Eugene simply offered, “You too,” and bolted out from behind cover.

What happened next was a blur. Eugene immediately became the main target, just as he’d intended, but he was nearly blown to pieces when the AT-ST’s cannons missed him by less than a meter. He ducked and rolled, to the walker’s blindspot. The machine had to turn, had to take that crucial single step forward, if it had any chance of hitting Eugene for real. Eugene was so focused on his success of finally, _finally_ , getting the AT-ST to step down into the trap that he missed the raider next to him. Burgie didn’t miss anything, though, when he aimed his blaster cannon at the walker and fired at will.

Eugene had barely felt a dash of relief at bringing the walker down when a blade came down on the side of his helmet. He staggered, uninjured but not unaffected. The clang of the durasteel weapon bashing into his helmet rattled Eugene’s teeth and made his ears ring. He fell back a step as the raider advanced, a vibroblade raised. Eugene saw it was aimed for his throat, a weakness in his armor, and reflexively caught the bandit’s wrist. It was so close to his neck, Eugene could feel the heated air from the dagger’s vibrations through his clothes. 

The raider snarled in his face, features gnarled and unsightly enough to make Eugene recoil. He pressed in, taking advantage of Eugene’s flinch, with strength enough that Eugene had to reach up and hold his blade back with both hands. The bandit had raw power but clearly no training. Eugene hooked his ankle behind the other man’s and knocked out his instep. As the bandit fell, he dragged Eugene down into the dirt with him. Eugene made the mistake of letting the man get on top of him, allowing him to put his full weight behind the blade.

The dagger tore through the fabric at Eugene’s collar, Eugene’s breath halted in his throat, before suddenly the man was knocked aside and off of him. When Eugene sat up, he saw Snafu was standing at his side. He kicked the bandit again to knock him down then raised his gun, Eugene’s own blaster pistol, and fired. Snafu’s first shot killed the man, burned a hole right through his ugly mug, but Snafu fired three more times.

“Fucking _die_ ,” Snafu barked and the look in his eyes startled Eugene. Snafu looked like a killer. It made Eugene wonder what _he_ looked like on the same end of a blaster. 

When Snafu turned to Eugene, his eyes were completely different though. They twinkled with amusement and concern, bright enough that Eugene could see them in the dark. Snafu tucked Eugene’s pistol into the front of his pants before offering his hand out for Eugene to take.

“C’mon, you just gon lay around all damn night?” Snafu teased.

Eugene huffed out a breathy laugh and took Snafu’s hand, “After taking out that walker? I think I earned it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Snafu hauled Eugene up to his feet, “Burgie did all the damn work.”

“Yeah, he’s really something else,” Eugene agreed, went to pull his hand free but Snafu didn’t let go.

Snafu hummed, a non-committal noise, then pulled Eugene a step closer by his hand. Eugene’s heart started hammering away in his chest so hard he was dizzy with it. Snafu squeezed Eugene’s fingers and made sure Eugene was looking at him, their faces so close Eugene could have felt the warmth from the other man’s skin if he didn’t have his helmet on.

“He ain’t got nothin’ on you, boo,” Snafu whispered, so sincere Eugene was left reeling and speechless. Then Snafu smiled and in the next second, dropped Eugene’s hand, drew his pistol lightning fast, and fired over Eugene’s shoulder so suddenly he jumped, “Fight ain’t over yet.”

“Right,” Eugene cleared his throat and stepped back, “It will be soon. If they’re smart, they’ll retreat now that the walker’s down.”

“Then let’s hope they as dumb as they look,” Snafu smile cut into a cruel smirk and he pushed past Eugene to rejoin the fight.


	9. The Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating!
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who keeps reading and commenting, I love you guys! My updates may be slowing down for a little while (ugh, life) so just a heads-up.

By the time the morning sun rose, the village had celebrated their victory. Just as Eugene had predicted, the raiders retreated when they realized their most powerful resource had been felled. In the very early dawn, only a few stragglers were still awake. Most of the civilians hadn’t lasted long into the night, unused to an adrenaline crash or too eager to drink themselves into a stupor. Eugene could see that the few awake were the ones who’d seen some kind of battle before and instead of being exhausted by such things, they were left tense and alert, even in victory. 

A bonfire had been built and burned down to flickering flames and those still awake were sat around it. Burgie was of no surprise to him. Eugene wondered what kind of fights Burgie had lived through before but consequently decided by the dark look in the other man’s eyes he would rather not know. Snafu's insomnia was of no real surprise either. Eugene was starting to think the other man always struggled with sleep, post-battle or not. 

Flo was the one that had taken Eugene aback the most. The woman was comforting and sweet, but a stalwart of calm resilience and hardened valor all the same. She didn’t hesitate to fight and now, she sat around the fire in the quiet of the morning with the same grim tension as the rest of them. Eugene thought about how Melbourne really was a great hiding spot for anyone on the run from their past.

Flo stood first, disrupting the quiet but in a way that was not unwelcome. She held out a hand for Burgie to take. “Come to bed with me,” she offered, boldly, “Keep me warm and I’ll do the same for you.”

Burgie, despite his hardened exterior, blushed. Nodding eagerly, he took up her hand, “Yes ma’am.”

Eugene didn’t watch the pair leave, trying not to be rude, so instead he stared ahead at the dying flames. Next to him, Snafu whistled at them suggestively. When Eugene glanced up, Flo was flipping Snafu off over her shoulder without looking back. Snafu cackled. Then he dropped down heavily next to Eugene and elbowed him in the side to get his attention.

“Bout kriffin’ time,” he snorted, “Them two been circlin’ each other for so long thought they was never gon get they head’s out they asses.”

Eugene thought maybe he knew the feeling. He sighed. Eugene didn’t _want_ to think about Snafu. Some part of him was frustrated and tired of always having the other man on his mind. It was as exhausting as it was thrilling. Finally, Eugene couldn’t resist and he tilted his head to the side just enough to see Snafu. The other man was sitting quietly but not comfortably. His skinny legs were drawn up. His hand was toying restlessly with the collar of his shirt as he watched Eugene. Realizing the other man’s attention was on him so fully, and that maybe Snafu wasn’t as confident as he always let on in his company, made Eugene’s stomach swoop. He looked away again and sighed. 

“Hey,” Snafu started, unusually quiet but then again the whole world was quiet now in the light of the morning, “Ya must be tired. Wanna hit the sack?”

“You go ahead,” Eugene dismissed because _yes_ he was tired but he wasn’t ready to sleep yet, not when his mind was still at war, “I’ll take care of the fire. Be there soon.”

Snafu hesitated but relented with an easy enough nod, “Yeah, okay. Don’t stay up too long. Even big damn heroes needa sleep.”

Eugene chuffed out a laugh, “Yeah so get to bed already then.”

Snafu elbowed him again as he stood but he was smiling so Eugene knew he was playing around. Eugene had to physically force himself not to watch Snafu walk away. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. As the sun rose, it painted the sky a beautiful and striking shade of red. Even when the world was cast in such a warm glow, it was cold still. Now that Eugene was alone, he no longer had any distractions from his own thoughts.

Eugene had admitted that he found Snafu attractive and knew he had to come to terms with the coiling warm desire he felt around the other man but he wasn’t sure why it was so hard to ignore. Unlike Burgie and Flo who had clearly been interested in each other, Eugene couldn’t just _act_ on his feelings. He couldn’t walk up to Snafu and tell him he wanted the other man to warm his bed. Even if, somehow, Eugene was reading the situation correctly and Snafu also wanted...if Snafu was also interested in...it couldn’t happen.

Mandalorians didn’t have casual relationships. Mandalorians didn’t take their armor off around _anyone_. Mandalorians didn’t allow _lust_ to interfere with their loyalty to the way of the Mandalore. Eugene had almost betrayed the Tribe once by allowing his guilt and fondness for Snafu to cloud his judgement. The fact that they came to his aid told him the Armorer and other Mandalorians in his sanctum had agreed with him, that Eugene had made the right call. Having an Imperial, _ex_ -Imperial, base of power so close to the sanctum was a danger they were going to have to face eventually. Eugene had simply forced them to act sooner rather than later. That, he did not regret. 

He didn’t _regret_ Snafu either. The way the other man made Eugene feel was unlike anything Eugene had ever known. It was amazing and terrifying. Even though Eugene was struggling with his own loyalties and desires, Snafu had only ever been a source of strength for him. Snafu made Eugene want to be better while simultaneously making him feel like a _big damn hero_. Eugene thought maybe Snafu felt a bond with him too. He blushed when he recalled Snafu kissing his helmet the night before. It could have been him goofing around but...it could have been more. Eugene _felt_ like it meant more.

Cursing under his breath, Eugene stood and stomped out the fire that was mostly embers anyway. It really hadn’t been long since Snafu went to bed and Eugene was already fed up with being alone. That was certainly a change for him but not an unwelcome one. He tried to be quiet as he made his way to the barn that the two of them were occupying in case Snafu was already asleep. He’d made up his mind that he’d put his feelings for Snafu out of his thoughts as best he could. Mandalorians, after all, didn’t take on _lovers._ Thinking about Snafu as his lover made Eugene flush like a virginal maid. Which he kind of _was_. Shab, Eugene really was doomed.

As he stepped in through the opened doorway, Eugene looked up and froze. Snafu was sprawled out on his back in _their_ bed with his hand down his pants. His shirt had been tossed carelessly to the floor so Eugene could see as his bare chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. He could have counted Snafu’s ribs in the orange morning light if his attention wasn’t so distracted by the movement happening inside of Snafu’s trousers. 

Desire burned through Eugene so fast, he gasped at the shock of it. Raw lust the likes of which he'd never felt before nearly staggered him. Maybe he'd wanted Snafu before, to kiss him or touch him, but never like _this_. Snafu must have heard him. His eyes flicked open and landed on Eugene immediately. Cursing, Snafu pulled his hand out of his pants and reached for a blanket to cover himself. 

“W-wait!” Eugene surprised himself by stepping up to the bed and gripping the blanket, pulling it away, “Don’t...don’t stop."

Snafu’s eyes widened. He gulped. His hand twitched in the sheets. “Ya want me to…?” he whispered, voice hoarse, “Ya wanna watch?”

Eugene was again surprised when he didn’t hesitate to answer, “ _Yes._ ”

Snafu let out a shuddery breath. The pupils in the center of his wide green eyes expanded, nearly swallowing his irises in an inky black. A flush burned across his collarbones as Snafu brought his hand back up. Eugene watched as Snafu touched his naval, watched as his fingers followed the thin trail of hair down into his pants once again, and let out a trembling breath of his own. Snafu moaned when his hand finally found what it was looking for. Eugene fell to one knee over the blankets, between Snafu’s legs. Snafu spread them apart more, to make room for him, _welcoming_. So Eugene hadn't been wrong about Snafu wanting this too.

Eugene still had his gloves on but he wanted to touch anyway. He lifted his hands, moved them above Snafu's waist without actually touching, then stopped over the fastening on Snafu's pants. Eugene asked, voice breathless but steadier than he felt, "Can I…?"

"Yes," Snafu answered immediately, not even waiting for Eugene to finish, "Do whateva ya want."

Eugene _shivered_. His fingers were shaking when he pried Snafu's trousers open. They trembled too when he settled his palms over Snafu's waist so he could push them under the fabric of his pants and drag them down. Snafu lifted his hips, eagerly, letting Eugene expose him. Eugene slid Snafu's pants down his thighs, encouraged Snafu to lift his legs so he could pull them down over his knobby knees and off his slender ankles.

Once Snafu was free from his last remaining clothes, he settled his legs outside of Eugene's armored thighs. It was an odd thing to see, Snafu's bare skin next to his untarnished Beskar armor, but Eugene thought maybe he liked it. If the warm heat of arousal in his veins was anything to go by. When Eugene looked up to Snafu's face, he found the other man grinning at him, playful and knowing. Snafu watched him as he slid one lean leg in, tilting his knee just a fraction until the bare, soft skin of his inner thigh touched the Beskar on Eugene's own thigh. Eugene's breath hitched. Even though he couldn't _feel_ Snafu's skin, seeing it touch his armor felt intimate and more erotic than Eugene had been expecting.

Snafu moaned and all of Eugene's attention was immediately drawn away. Snafu’s hand was wrapped around himself, touching softly but not stroking. Eugene settled back on his heels, so he was sitting on his knees over the other man. He caught Snafu under both of his knees and pulled until Snafu was flat on his back and his legs were spread over Eugene’s lap. Snafu let out a surprised grunt that ended in a wanton groan and it sent shivers through Eugene’s whole body.

“Snaf,” Eugene whispered, voice so hoarse it was basically a growl. Eugene was unsure about a lot of things surrounding him and Snafu but not in this moment, “Come on.”

Snafu nodded quickly, swallowed thickly. His hand began stroking himself for real and Eugene, again, found himself desperately unable to look away, enraptured by the other man. His cock was hard between his fingers as Snafu squeezed himself. He rubbed his thumb at the head to smear his precum over the sensitive flesh before gripping himself firmly. Snafu let out a filthy moan from the back of his throat as he rocked his hips up into the firm, slick grip of his own hand.

“That’s it,” Eugene encouraged breathlessly.

“Mm, fuck,” Snafu grunted, chomped down on his lip, clenched his eyes shut, “I’m so fuckin’ close already.”

“Don’t hold back,” Eugene’s voice was quaking. Arousal shook him to his core at the mere thought of Snafu coming apart, “I want to see.”

Snafu moaned and Eugene responded with his own breathless sound of pleasure. He could feel that he was hard under his armor, just from watching the other man. Snafu was shameless in his own ecstasy and Eugene couldn’t deny how much it affected him. Snafu’s chest rose and fell rapidly, making all of his lean definition visible with every twitch of his muscles. A thin sheen of sweat had broken across his skin, and Eugene swore it _glowed_ in the fiery light of the sunrise. 

Snafu quickened his hand, chasing his release with oblivion. It was as lewd as it was beautiful. Eugene found himself lost to his own passions. He reached down, gripped Snafu by his narrow hipbones, and held on tight as pleasure wracked through him. Snafu let out a carnal sound under his touch and finally came. His hips twitched under Eugene’s hands as his cock jerked in his fingers. As Snafu spilled streaks of release across his own stomach, the breathless little moan that left his parted lips sent Eugene spiraling. His vision whited out and Eugene shuddered through his own release. He finished in his pants without ever being touched.

Eugene had to take in a steadying breath before his vision came back into focus. Snafu had never been so beautiful as he was then, spread over Eugene’s lap, nude in the scarlet sunlight, and so exquisitely relaxed. Eugene wanted the debauched image seared into his mind forever. If he hadn’t already come once, he probably could have done so again when Snafu smiled up at him lazily, all pleased like a loth-cat that got the cream. Eugene’s gloved thumb traced the corner of Snafu’s smile before Eugene even realized he was moving.

“Beautiful,” Eugene whispered, barely even a sound. He wasn’t sure Snafu had even heard him. Not until Snafu’s brows furrowed, his smile faltered. He closed his eyes, turned into Eugene’s touch, kissed Eugene’s gloved palm. Eugene felt dazed by his affection for the other man.

“Made a mess,” Snafu mumbled, dropping his head back into the blankets and throwing his wrist across his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eugene snickered, “But you sure looked good doing it.”

Snafu snorted over a laugh then slid his wrist up to his forehead so he could look at Eugene. His eyes were quizzical. Something about his open but inquisitive expression made Eugene nervous. Suddenly, he was aware of the uncomfortable stickiness in his pants and of the awkward positions he and Snafu were still in. He cleared his throat, pulled back. 

When Eugene stood, he scooped up Snafu's pants and tossed them to him. Once he'd shimmied into his breeches, Snafu pushed himself up to his elbow. Eugene fetched a towel from their supplies, dampened it with some clean water. Snafu seemed surprised when Eugene returned. He sat next to Snafu then cleaned off his stomach and up across his chest. When Eugene was done, he finally met Snafu's gaze and was startled by the emotions playing across Snafu's face. He looked young, Eugene realized, when his eyes were wet and his cheeks were flushed and he was smiling all toothy like he was happy. It made him seem youthful and _vulnerable_ in a way that didn't suit Snafu at all but somehow made sense anyway.

Snafu opened his mouth to speak and suddenly Eugene was _terrified_ of what he had to say. "I'm sorry," Eugene said in a rush so Snafu couldn't talk first, "I shouldn't have let this happen."

Snafu's expression closed off. Eugene could tell he was hurt. Which had not been his intention at all.

"I'm a _Mandalorian_ ," Eugene explained like he was pleading for Snafu to understand. The other man's frown softened at the edges, "In my religion we...we don't _do_ this kind of thing, Snaf. I can't take my armor off. Not around _anyone_."

Snafu sighed, "So this was, what? You just blowin' off steam or sumthin'? That fight last night really get you all riled up like that?"

Eugene hesitated. He could lie, tell Snafu that's exactly what this was. That Eugene was just coming down from an adrenaline rush and it didn't mean anything. But, no. Eugene owed Snafu the truth, the man deserved that much.

"No," Eugene confessed, "I think I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

Snafu chewed at his frown for a second before responding. "Me too. Was thinkin' bout you right before ya came in, actually," Snafu smiled but it didn't have his usual charm, too timid for that, "I think I, uh, really like the damn armor if I'm bein' honest."

Eugene let out a flustered little laugh. Gods but he wanted Snafu like this, here in their shared bed, his curly hair wild, his smile too sweet to be anything but genuine. It wasn't that easy though. When Mandalorians formed bonds, they took partners for life. It was more than a simple fling, more than a _marriage_ , really. Once together, their souls became one, their Tribes became each other's, they devoted themselves to one another and pursued the way of the Mandalore together. Maybe in Eugene's fantasies he could see himself owning a little farm with a kitchen and a fireplace. Maybe, even, he could see Snafu there with him. But that was not the way. Not for Eugene.

"You're different, Snaf, and I think I really like you. I just wish we…" Eugene hated that his heart _ached_ with loss for something he never even had, "I wish I could be whatever you want. I wish I could give you everything you deserve," Eugene couldn't resist leaning in, couldn't stop himself from pressing the dome of his helm against Snafu's forehead, couldn't look away when Snafu's beautiful eyes fluttered shut so he could no longer see the pain in them, "I care about you. But I can't give up everything that I am like this, Snaf. I _can't._ "

"I don't-" Snafu started haltingly, "I don't want or need nothin' you ain't wanna give me, boo. Just-" when he opened his eyes again, Eugene felt swept away by them just like he always did. They truly were a tempest, a roiling storm of oceanic turquoise. Snafu's voice wavered, "Stay with me though. I...I care bout you too."

"I'm not going anywhere," Eugene was surprised by his own assuredness, "Not without you."

Snafu smiled that shy smile he always tried to hide by biting at his lip. Eugene wanted to kiss it away with almost every fibre of his being. Almost.

"Okay," Snafu nodded, "Then I'm with you, boo. However we wanna do this, I'm with you."

Snafu’s response shocked Eugene. He was sure the other man would have been angry or felt dejected. If anything, though, Snafu seemed content to know they'd both wanted each other just as much. Eugene let Snafu pull on his hand, let himself be dragged down into their bed, even let Snafu curl up against his side. Eugene was flabbergasted that Snafu wanted to be with him even when he knew they were doomed from the start. 

He guessed maybe that was where they differed. Snafu took things as they came, savored them in the moment, and tried not to mourn them when they were lost. Eugene decided for now he'd take a page from Snafu's book. Pulling a comforter over them both, Eugene wrapped his arms around Snafu and held him close. They fell asleep together as the sunlight outside melted into a warm gold. It was going to be a beautiful day, Eugene was sure of it.


	10. The Shooter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I think the wait for the next one may be even longer! I'm sorry to anyone reading this. I promise I'm not giving up on it at all I've just been very busy. D: Anyway, this is kind of a long chapter so I hope you all enjoy!

Snafu was doing it on purpose, Eugene just _knew_. The other man was shirtless, again, even though it was as cold as ever. In the week the three of them had been staying in the village, Burgie and Flo had taken their relationship to a more serious level and Snafu had taken to flirting with Eugene every chance he got. The people in the village had begun to assume him and Snafu were a couple and Eugene didn't bother to correct them. Neither did Snafu. It wasn't entirely incorrect even though it wasn't entirely correct either.

Now, though, Eugene knew Snafu had taken off his shirt just to tease him. Ever since Eugene had seen Snafu...since the two of them...since that morning, it was like Snafu _knew_ Eugene liked to watch him. And, also, like Snafu enjoyed being watched by him just as much. Eugene had been right, too. Snafu was an entirely different kind of stunning when he wasn’t bruised up or bloodied.

So Eugene was distracted by the freckles on Snafu's bare back during his morning conversation and cup of tea with Burgie. Eugene never drank any tea nor did he offer up much in the way of conversation but Burgie never seemed to mind. This time, Eugene was basically ignoring the man entirely in favor of ogling Snafu. In Eugene's defense, Snafu _was_ playing with Winta by one of the krill beds and a wet, shirtless, happy Snafu was one hell of a distraction. 

Burgie snorted into his tea, "You ain’t been listening to a word I said, huh?"

Eugene shrugged a shoulder before finally looking at Burgie, "Sorry," he didn't even sound apologetic because he wasn't, really, "Got distracted."

"Well your _distraction_ just slipped and fell into one of them ponds," Burgie chuckled.

Eugene looked at Snafu again but only saw the splash of him crashing into the water. He was going to laugh right up until he realized Winta wasn't laughing, she was screaming. Burgie and Eugene both jumped to their feet and dashed toward the ruckus. Winta was hiding behind a harvesting droid, her knees and palms were scraped up, and she was crying. Burgie was at her side in an instant.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frantic, "What happened?"

"He pushed me!" she cried.

"Who did?"

"Snafu!" she cried harder, "He pushed me outta the way!"

Eugene whirled around and realized Snafu hadn't come up from the water yet. The pond he'd fallen in was the biggest, and deepest, in the village. The four of them were at the farthest edge of the village where they could get away from everyone else and enjoy some peace and quiet. Alone. Eugene's gut wrenched in shock and dread as his feet carried him to the water's edge in a rush. Before he could act, a zing ripped through the air and a durasteel projectile clanged off his Beskar shoulder guard. Eugene ducked instinctively even though there was no cover.

"Burgie! Get her out of here!" Eugene shouted just as Burgie scooped the girl up in his arms, "Lock the village down! We're under fire!"

"On it!" Burgie ducked by the droid and ordered it to go with them. The droid agreed in a series of frantic whirs and beeps.

Eugene scanned the treeline even as he began counting how long Snafu had been in the water and how much longer he had before he drowned. He switched to his thermal view. There were no obvious heat signatures. He'd perhaps been expecting a group of raiders looking for revenge to come running out of the trees any second. They didn't. Cursing, Eugene slung off his rifle and dropped his blaster pistol. Then deciding it was worth the risk, dove into the pond after Snafu.

With his helmet it only took Eugene seconds to find the other man. He had sunk down into the colorful weeds at the bottom. Eugene swam toward him with vigor. Snafu wasn't kicking or swimming. His eyes were closed. Eugene grabbed him around his middle then pushed off of the rocks at the bottom to shove them both up toward the surface. 

Snafu didn't gasp for air like Eugene had been expecting, or maybe just hoping, when they emerged from the water. Eugene wasted no time paddling them both to the edge of the pond and hauling them out. There was a small wooden shack where the farmer's tools were stored and Eugene dragged Snafu's limp body in there with him. He shoved aside baskets and nets carelessly as he got Snafu laid out flat on his back. Then, Eugene realized Snafu wasn't breathing.

Without pause, Eugene began pumping Snafu's chest. He pushed down hard until he knew there would be bruises on Snafu's sternum after. If he lived. Eugene counted as he went, lifting himself over Snafu so he could really put his weight behind the compressions.

"Come on!" Eugene barked.

Eugene knew Snafu didn't have time for him to hesitate but as he reached up to pull his helmet off, Eugene paused. He couldn't. Not even now. But all Eugene could see was the blue tinting the edges of Snafu’s mouth. Shoving his palms back into Snafu's chest, Eugene came down _hard_. Eugene put all the force he had into the chest compressions and after a particularly hard push, Snafu sputtered. 

The moment he coughed up a mouthful of water, Eugene spun him up onto his side. While Snafu coughed and hacked, Eugene rubbed at his back. He felt a little awkward because he wasn't that good at being comforting but mostly Eugene was so relieved he could cry.

"That's it," Eugene whispered, "Shab, Snaf, that was close."

Snafu looked up at him, his eyes wild, "Wha-" When he sucked in a raspy breath, he started coughing all over again.

"Just take it easy," Eugene stroked Snafu's hair, tucking the wet strands off of his forehead.

"Wha's-" Snafu started again, "Wha's goin'-?"

"You saved Winta and fell in the krill pond," Eugene explained so Snafu didn’t have to ask, "We're in cover now but whoever attacked you is still out there."

Snafu nodded, "Yeah. Weren't-" he choked up again but pushed through, "Wasn't tryin' t'kill, don't think."

Eugene nodded, taking in that information, as he retightened the fastenings on his armor. He’d have to get everything off to dry, eventually, now though Eugene only had one thing on his mind. Darting to the shack entrance, Eugene peered out and still he saw nothing.

“Stay here,” he said, “I’m regrouping with Burgie. We need to find that shooter.”

Snafu’s chest rattled with every breath so instead of speaking, he nodded and raised his hand in a thumbs up.

By the time Eugene had circled the pond to reclaim his guns, he heard an alerting whistle and his head snapped up. Burgie was standing at the edge of the woods, not too far in front of him, with a grim look on his face.

“I got him, Mando,” he didn’t sound exactly ecstatic about it and Eugene was suddenly awash with an annoyingly familiar sense of dread, “You’re gonna want to see this.”

Just inside the treeline, their shooter laid slumped against a tree. One well-place blaster shot was torn through his center mass. The width of the wound indicated it came from a blaster rifle and from quite a distance away.

“Nice shot,” Eugene acknowledged, “You really are a badass.”

“Yeah, I am,” Burgie didn’t smile, “But it ain’t what I wanted to show you,” then he kicked out what the shooter had been holding in his hand. It skidded across the leaves and landed at Eugene’s feet, “That is.”

A Bondsman Guild tracking fob. It wasn’t beeping rapidly which meant neither Burgie nor Eugene were its targets. That only left one option. Eugene’s heart sank in his chest. So much for a quiet farmer’s life. He stomped the offending device into a thousand pieces under his boot.

Snafu took the news better than Eugene had been expecting but then again he was preoccupied by his aching chest and wet lungs. Florence was the one who surprised Eugene the most, once again, and Eugene decided he really needed to stop underestimating her. She told them to stay, she told them that the whole village would protect him and Snafu, just like the two had done for them. Eugene and Snafu both knew they couldn’t. The hunters chasing Snafu would never stop coming. Every time they came back, too, they’d return with more numbers and less mercy. No, Eugene and Snafu had no choice but to leave Melbourne and leave immediately.

Burgie helped them pack everything into the same speeder they’d arrived in. Snafu was shaky on his feet so they all agreed he needed as much rest as he could get. He wasn’t going to protest getting out of work, anyway. Saying their goodbyes was hard. Winta was crying but putting on a brave face. She hugged them both, held onto Snafu just a little bit longer. Flo passed them both some home cooked meals and other supplies, including some extra clothes for Snafu. Burgie shook their hands.

“I’d join you gentlemen,” he offered, “but I got good reason to stick around here.”

“We know,” Eugene squeezed his reassurance into Burgie’s palm, “Good luck.”

Burgie clapped Eugene on his shoulder, “You too.”

The K-35 was right where they’d left it, its gleaming metal hull standing out like a sore thumb among the trees. Snafu was on his side, curled up under Eugene’s cloak and sleeping restlessly by the time they arrived so Eugene let him rest. He and the farmers unloaded all of their supplies. By the time all was said and done, it was dark and cold enough Eugene was shivering in his damp under armour. He shook Snafu awake so they could say their final goodbyes and load themselves up into the K-35. He tried not to look back as they left and he could tell by the way Snafu was staring at the dash that he was doing the same.

Once they were in hyperspace and a safe distance away, Eugene stood. Snafu was slumped in the co-pilot’s seat just behind him and Eugene couldn’t resist reaching out for him. Unlike all those times he’d wanted to reach for the other man but couldn’t, Eugene was allowed to now. Snafu _wanted_ him to. Eugene cupped Snafu’s cheek and Snafu leaned into the leather of his glove.

“So,” Eugene started, trying to break the quiet between them. He could feel under his palm that Snafu was shivering, “You can’t swim?”

Snafu scoffed, "I can," before something flashed through his eyes and his jaw clenched. Snafu looked down, “Or, well…” his posture sagged and he wrapped his arm around to clutch at the end of his shoulder, “I _could_.”

“Oh,” Eugene replied awkwardly, feeling like an asshole when he'd only been trying to lighten the mood, “Come on,” he said instead, changing the subject, “We should get washed up. Get some dry clothes on.”

Snafu let Eugene pull him to his feet and steer him to the fresher. He winced when he lifted his shirt over his head and Eugene couldn't hold back a grimace too. A dark purple bruise had blossomed at the center of Snafu's chest, just like Eugene thought it would, but there was no small amount of bruising around his ribs and up his sides too. When he turned to switch the fresher on, Eugene saw there was a nasty smattering of purple on his back as well. He sighed, ran his fingertips feather-light down Snafu's spine.

"Sorry," he whispered as Snafu trembled; he was no doubt in a lot of pain. Although Eugene couldn't feel it for himself, his skin was probably ice cold.

Snafu grunted, "For what?" The rawness of his voice startled Eugene; it was coughed hoarse and thick with emotion, "Savin' my crummy hide?"

Eugene stepped up, so he could wrap his arms around Snafu from behind. He didn't squeeze him, too afraid to cause him any more pain, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I really thought I'd lost you today, Snaf."

Snafu swallowed with such force, his gulp was audible. "I'm fine," he sucked in a shuddery breath and Eugene could have sworn he was _crying_ or something, "I'm _fine_ ," he shook Eugene off and Eugene let him go without a fight, "Ya cold ass armor ain't helpin' any. Fuckin freezin'."

"I-" Eugene took a step back, to give Snafu some space, "I don't mind cold water, so use as much of the hot as you need," it was mostly true, anyway, "And I'll get some clothes out for you, leave em by the door."

Snafu didn't turn to face him, only grunted an affirmative noise to let Eugene know he'd heard. Eugene left the room without saying anything else.

Snafu's sour demeanor made Eugene uneasy. While seeing Snafu in such a state had affected Eugene deeply, he was sure whatever Snafu was going through was worse. The man had almost died. Falling into the pond, Snafu had probably expected to be fine. Eugene couldn't imagine the horror he must have felt when he realized he could no longer swim. Eugene wondered if Snafu had looked up, sinking to the depths of that cold pond, and seen _him_. Seen Eugene standing on the bank, seeking out their enemy instead of saving him. Eugene's stomach churned uncomfortably. He wondered too if Snafu knew that he hadn't taken his helmet off even when Snafu was half dead, lungs full of water, desperately in need of air. Eugene hoped he didn't.

Before his thoughts could travel to any darker places, a crash startled Eugene out of them. He dropped the clothes he had in his arms that he was bringing to Snafu and dashed to the living quarters. The door to the fresher was open but the room was empty. Eugene flicked on his thermal settings and searched out Snafu. When he spotted him, Eugene's heart leapt into his throat. Snafu was on the floor slumped over the end of Eugene's, well, _their_ bunk. He'd manage to yank the blanket off of the bed and wrap it around his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Eugene rushed to his side, crouching next to him. Snafu was still shivering, "What happened?"

Snafu didn't respond but to groan. Without thinking, Eugene pulled one of his gloves off so he could feel Snafu's skin. When he expected to find it cold, Eugene discovered Snafu was burning up. He skidded his palm up Snafu's shoulder then lifted it to the other man's face. Eugene's skin looked especially pale against Snafu's flushed features. He tucked a strand of hair off of Snafu's forehead so tenderly it was embarrassing before he laid his hand over it. The skin under his palm was on fire and Snafu let out another groan, leaning into his touch.

"Shab," Eugene cursed, "You must've gotten sick."

"So _rry_ ," Snafu muttered, voice a weird combination of utterly soft and completely annoyed, "My mistake."

"I'm not saying it's your fault, you nerf herder," Eugene jabbed, a little playful but a little serious too, "You could have said something if you were feeling-"

"Said 'm _fine_ ," Snafu grumbled irritably.

Eugene couldn't fight off a smile, "Yeah you really look it. Just come on," he reached down and helped Snafu climb up into their bunk, "Sleep it off. Drop the snark and maybe I'll get you some water."

Snafu fell into the soft bed with a snort, "Ya threatenin' me?"

" _Bribing_ you," Eugene corrected as he pulled the blankets up to Snafu's chin.

Snafu narrowed his glassy eyes at Eugene, "Ya'd get me some anyhow."

"Yeah," Eugene agreed easily, bringing his bare fingers to Snafu's cheek, just to touch him, "You know I love your snark."

Snafu's eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath. Eugene must have said something upsetting. Again. He was really on a roll today. Sighing under his helmet, Eugene let the pad of his thumb glide down Snafu's sharp jaw all the way to his mouth. He stopped at the edge of the other man's frown, stopped himself from touching Snafu's lips. He wanted to feel them but it felt wrong to do it now. So Eugene pulled away. Sliding his glove back on, Eugene stood. He did get Snafu a glass of water and he left it on the small table next to the bunk where Snafu could easily reach even though Snafu was still huffing at him fussily.

Once Eugene was in the bathroom, he began carefully pulling off his armor. Later, he'd need to clean it up and dry it off carefully so it would maintain its integrity. Beskar was one of the strongest materials in the galaxy but a true Mandalorian respected his armor no matter what it had been forged from. Eugene lifted his helmet off and set it down next to the rest of his armor. His auburn hair was still damp, just like his under armor. If Eugene didn't get into some clean, dry clothes soon, he'd probably get sick too. 

When Eugene glanced up, he caught his eyes in the mirror. Still as expressive as ever, he thought with no small amount of bitterness. Eugene liked to think his straight posture and squared shoulders gave him the appearance of a sturdy and sure man. With his helmet on, they probably did. Observing himself now, naked in the mirror, Eugene looked too much like his age. His deep amber eyes were too wide, pooled with so much obvious concern and guilt that Eugene almost looked like a foundling waiting to be scolded. He was the youngest Mandalorian to leave in years, he knew, but now looking at himself like this, Eugene really felt like it. He sighed, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and hopped into the fresher before he could do anymore damn thinking.

He wasn't a cook by any means. In fact, Eugene could admit that he possessed zero culinary skills whatsoever. Which meant when it came down to finding himself and the incapacitated Snafu something to eat, Eugene was insurmountably grateful Flo had made them some food for their trip. She'd packed some spotchka, obviously, as well as some loaves of stone ground wheat bread and stew made from various aquatic creatures he couldn't identify. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to, anyway. Eugene ate his own rations, satisfied but a little sad that he wouldn't be tasting more of Flo's cooking anytime soon. Then he heated up a serving for Snafu.

"Hey," he announced as he brought a tray of food with him into the bunk, "Got some food, if you're hungry."

Snafu didn't respond. Eugene thought he was asleep for a moment. He set the tray on the end table next to the half full glass of water he'd brought earlier. When he turned to shake Snafu, however, Eugene realized the other man was already awake. Well, if the glossed-over, fever-bright look on the man's face even counted as being awake. Snafu's eyes had never looked so green. They were warm and wet, half-lidded and undeniably far away. Worry swooped in Eugene's chest. 

"You don't look so good," he sat on the edge of the bunk, carding his gloved fingers through Snafu's sweat tousled hair.

Snafu sighed and relaxed into his touch. When he spoke, Snafu muttered something in a language Eugene didn't recognize. It was nothing like the abrupt, jarring language of the Jawas and not so crude and boring as Basic. Even though Snafu was mumbling, the words rolled off his tongue gracefully. In Snafu's roughened voice and naturally silky timbre, this unfamiliar language sounded like spoken art. Eugene wondered, radically, if there was anything Snafu couldn't make sexy. Then immediately felt guilty thinking like that when Snafu was in such a state.

"I don't know what you're saying but I think I get the idea," Eugene sighed.

Another subject Eugene was no expert in was first aid and medicine. Of course, he had a basic level knowledge of things like dressing a battle wound and preventing it from getting infected. Mostly he understood the things he'd learned during his training or he'd learned through experience in the field. So nursing Snafu back to health wasn't exactly something he was confident in. He knew fevers were dangerous but was far more efficient at _preventing_ them than he was at _treating_ them. Eugene looked down at Snafu again, uncertain. He cursed under his breath. 

"Snaf, what am supposed to do?" Eugene asked, then immediately felt stupid. 

That unnerving sense of helplessness that had needled its way under Eugene’s skin when he'd realized Snafu was drowning didn't seem to be going anywhere. It was what made his eyes look like a scared kid's in the mirror, made him feel like one too. It had been so long since Eugene had felt like anything but a Mandalorian, a hunter hunted. He cupped Snafu's cheek and was sure he could feel the heat of his skin through the leather of his glove but hoped it was just his cruel imagination. 

"I said I was going to stay with you. So," Eugene’s voice cracked; he ignored it and continued, "You have to stay with me too, you asshole. What do you need me to do?"

Snafu huffed out what almost sounded like a laugh. When Eugene met his eyes, they were still glassy and half-lidded but more focused than before. Then Snafu smiled. Just a tiny, barely-there ghost of a grin but it knocked the terror right out of Eugene's veins. Snafu swallowed thickly, groaned.

"Gotta get--merde--get it down," Snafu rasped, "Get sum cold water and a rag. Put that shit on my head fore my brain scrambles, cher."

"Okay," Eugene stood in a rush, "Okay. I can do that. Wait here."

Snafu snorted, "Can't-" his breath rattled out of him, "Can't go nowhere anyhow."

"Smartass," Eugene shot back over his shoulder, more relieved than he wanted to admit to himself.

Snafu instructed Eugene with a surprising amount of coherency given his state. His eyes kept drooping shut and his lungs had begun to crackle with every breath. Once Snafu started coughing, he didn't seem able to stop. Luckily, Eugene had picked up on what he needed to do to make Snafu feel better. He'd helped Snafu sit up and helped him eat spoonfuls of stew between bouts of coughing much to Snafu's chagrin. As bad as Eugene was at taking care of him, Snafu was just as bad at being cared for. At first Eugene thought Snafu was mad when he shoved the food away from him with a sharp curse before he realized Snafu was embarrassed. Embarrassed and maybe unaccustomed to such pampering. That was okay. Eugene wasn't used to it either.

"Just drink the water!" he snapped, shoving the glass up against Snafu's bottom lip. _Again_ , "Stop being such a baby!"

"I ain't!" Snafu snapped back, trying to yank the cup out of Eugene's grasp only to spill it over both their fingers, "I can do it myself!"

" _No_ , you can't!" Eugene argued, "You keep spilling it!"

"Shut the fuck up, Mando!" Snafu barked with a surprising amount of bite.

" _You_ shut up!" Eugene would chew himself out later for being so reactive, "Just drink the damn water!"

"I'm _tryin'_ !" Snafu sniped, "Maybe if ya held it _still_ it wouldn't spill so damn much!"

"I was holding it still, you were the one-!" Eugene stopped. He took in a slow breath through his nose, letting himself calm down. " _Here_ ," he said as he pushed the glass into Snafu's hand, "Just let me keep it steady, okay?"

Snafu sighed and all the anger seemed to deflate out of him. "Okay," he agreed.

Eugene gave Snafu the glass but he kept his palm against the bottom. He could see the muscle in Snafu's bicep shake as he lifted the cup. Once he started, Snafu seemed to realize how thirsty he was because the cup was empty when he finally pressed it back into Eugene's grasp. 

"S'weird," Snafu confessed, looking sheepish and Eugene would even dare to say apologetic. Mostly, he just seemed tired though, "Been awhile since I just had one."

"You lost your prosthetic on Peleliu-7 right?" Eugene broke off a piece of bread and handed it to the other man. Snafu frowned but took it anyway.

"Yeah," Snafu chewed at the bread, mood turning dismal, "Had that thing for a long time so...just forgot what it was like, I guess."

"That's fair," Eugene agreed then huffed, "Doesn't mean you gotta be an asshole though. I'm only trying to help."

"Why'm _I_ always the asshole, huh?" Snafu grunted.

"I'm too damn nice," Eugene shot back, using Snafu's own words against him, "Still figuring it out."

"When ya said that, this ain't really what I was hopin' for," Snafu chuckled.

"Well, _excuse_ me," Eugene snorted, "Sorry my asshole ways aren't to your standards. You do set the bar so high after all."

"Fuck _off_ ," Snafu laughed, face flushed and hair stuck sweaty to his forehead.

Eugene laughed too. Even when Snafu was doing his best to piss Eugene off, Eugene kind of loved it anyway.

"Snaf," Eugene wanted to say this before he lost his nerve, "Sorry I didn't take my helmet off. When I was trying to bring you back. I should have tried to breathe for you but I-"

Snafu snorted, waved his arm dismissively to cut Eugene off. "Don't be dumb. Everyone and they granmamie know that mouth-to-mouth shit don't matter. The compressions are what make all the difference," he chuckled to himself, "If ya'd taken ya helmet off just to lock lips with me, I probably woulda died for real."

Eugene blinked in surprise. He'd only learned how to resuscitate someone like that by seeing it done crudely on one of his missions. He'd never done it before himself and truly he wasn't even sure he was doing it right until Snafu coughed up half the pond into his lap. He nodded his head, considering.

"Good to know," he finally admitted, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind next time I want to take my helmet off just to lock lips. Don't want to put your life at unnecessary risk or anything."

Snafu snickered but it turned into a harsh cough that had Eugene wincing in sympathy. "So," he started, voice breathless and hoarse, "Ya think bout kissin' me a lot then?"

Eugene blushed. From the way Snafu smirked, Eugene got the feeling he knew it too, "Don't flatter yourself."

"Don't gotta," Snafu caught Eugene's hand, squeezed his fingers, "Ya do it enough for me."

Eugene cupped Snafu by the back of his neck and leaned into him. He pressed their foreheads together, a Mandalorian kiss. "Not nearly," Eugene whispered, "I could tell you how beautiful you are more times than there are stars and it still wouldn't be enough."

To his surprise, Snafu's entire face lit up bright red. Eugene chuckled when Snafu rolled his eyes but still couldn't hide his embarrassment.

"You're a _sap_ ," Snafu chastised.

"Guess so," Eugene grinned to himself, "You love it though."

"Yeah," Snafu sighed, soft and sweet. Then he tugged on Eugene's hand, "C'mere. Can hardly stay awake."

Eugene let himself be pulled into bed with the other man. His armor clanged together as Snafu arranged them around until Snafu was stretched out on his side, head resting on Eugene's chest plate. It still amazed Eugene that Snafu could sleep like that. _Inside_ the armor it was insulated to protect Eugene from the hardness of the metal. _Outside_ it was hard on purpose.

"Snaf, come on," Eugene scolded even as he wrapped his arms around the other man, "This cannot be comfortable."

"Better'n the floors of them Imp mines," Snafu shot back, "Sides I told ya before, I _like_ the armor."

Eugene huffed but relaxed into Snafu anyway, " _You're_ the sap."

"Yeah-huh," Snafu threw his arm across Eugene's stomach and snuggled in, "Ya love me though."

Eugene's heart jumped, he swallowed thickly. Was that what this was? Eugene had never felt so at peace with someone else. Even when they were bickering, even when Snafu was mad and scared, even when the other man was drooling on his sacred Beskar armor like it was a pillow, Eugene was happy to be with him. Eugene considered what his future would look like if Snafu was a Mandalorian. He wondered what it would be like to be _bonded_ to Snafu. Two bodies, one soul. It made Eugene dizzy. He wasn't sure if the sickening flutter in his stomach was a good kind of nervous or bad. Either way it didn't matter. Snafu _wasn't_ a Mandalorian. 

Eugene opened his mouth to respond. He was going to tell Snafu he was wrong or in the very least remind him that it didn't matter _how_ Eugene felt, they couldn't be together. Eugene was a Mandalorian and Mandalorians didn't _love_ people like that. But when Eugene looked down at Snafu, the other man was already asleep. Eugene sighed and left it alone. Snafu was sick; he needed as much rest as he could get. Eugene gently slid out from the other man and moved Snafu to cuddle into the pillow instead. Someone really should be piloting the ship anyway.


End file.
